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Class 

Book 






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C&FXRrGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE CONDUCT OF MIND SERIES 

EDITED BY 

JOSEPH JASTROW 



MENTAL 
ADJUSTMENTS 



The Conduct of Mind Series 

Edited By Joseph Jastrow, Ph.D. 

VOCATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY 
By H. L. Hollingworth, Ph.D. 

CHARACTER AND TEMPERAMENT 
By Joseph Jastrow, PhX>. 

PSYCHOLOGY IN DAILY LIFE 
By C. E. Seashore, Ph.D. 

MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

By Frederic Lyman Wells, Ph.D. 

UUllUIUlllllllllllMUIlllMlllllllinillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllltlllllNlllllllllllllltllUIIItllllHIIltlllll 

D. APPLETON & COMPANY 

Publishers NEW YORK 



212 



' 



MENTAL 
ADJUSTMENTS 



BY 



FREDERIC LYMAN WELLS 




D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

NEW YORK LONDON 

1917 



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Copyright, 1917, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



Jl 

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JUN II 1917 

Printed in the United States of America 

©CU467375 



TO 

C. M. C. 



PREFACE 

A schoolboy defined the United States Constitution as 
that part at the end of the book which nobody reads. The 
preface takes a similar role at a book's beginning. But a 
preface embodies the effect of writing the book, and it is 
a paltry work that does not leave its author wiser than it 
found him. 

Dynamic psychology describes the conduct of mind from 
the standpoint of its adjustment to the world we live in. 
It is the most truly cultural study. It is founded on the 
motto of Socrates; its aim is to give one the most insight 
into his own and others' behavior. To the individual, bet- 
ter self-understanding means better self-control, and wiser 
ordering of one's actions along the normal paths of happi- 
ness. And in thus appreciating the common factors in hu- 
man nature, one is made more sensible of an underlying 
brotherhood with one's fellow men. Familiarity may breed 
contempt, but it is worth remembering that it was the fox 
in whom contempt was bred. As Goethe reminds us, men 
despise rather that which they do not understand. A chem- 
ist does not despise the elements, nor an astronomer the 
stars. 

The chief business of a book of knowledge, above all a 
psychological book, is not to tell us things, but to enable us 
to see for ourselves what we would otherwise miss. A lover 
of birds studies the notes and color plates in books not for 
their own interest, but to help him recognize birds in the 
field. The proper way to study mankind is by way of man ; 
what we learn from books must be confirmed or corrected 
in our own experience before it has any real meaning. 
Every good novel or good drama is good psychology be- 

vii 



viii PREFACE 

cause it shows how real people differ in their ways of meet- 
ing life's situations. Any book that gives us ideas of this 
kind can add to our psychological knowledge. 

This book owes much to Frazer through "The Golden 
Bough," and to Sumner through the "Folkways." Other 
citations are given in place. But the greatest obligations are 
to those who made it possible to assimilate these works and 
to make the "strategic regrouping" of their ideas for the 
present purpose. This is due chiefly to my associations with 
Macfie Campbell, August Hoch and Charles Lambert. I 
am indebted for certain clinical notes also to Dr. G. S. Am- 
den; and to Professors Woodworth and Dodge for valued 
criticism at various points in the work.* 

F. Lyman Wells. 
Waverley, Mass., 

March 23, 19 17. 

* Whoever writes a volume of the present kind has oc- 
casion to test a number of psychological concepts. Those to 
which I would more especially ask my colleagues' attention are 
affective symbolism, dissociative symbolism, affective siphoning, 
the wider significance given to trend, the distinction between 
awareness (a narrower) and consciousness (a wider) term, 
and the widened concept of dissociation (suggested in Hart). 
These are at least not trite, and have stood well such a test in 
use as this volume could give them. 



LIST OF TITLES ABBREVIATED IN FOOTNOTES 

D.psa. Met., Pfister, Die psychanalytische Methode, Leipzig and 

Berlin, 1913. 
Maj. Sympt., Janet, The Major Symptoms of Hysteria, Mac- 

millan, 1907. 
Path. A. Rel., Josiah Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, 

Worcester, 1906. 
Unc, Prince, The Unconscious, Macmillan, 1914. 



INTRODUCTION 

Under a convergent variety of interests the concept of 
mental adjustment has assumed a larger significance and 
new aspects. Dr. Wells undertakes to interpret and organize 
the material from which insight has resulted. The funda- 
mental biological conception of adapted conduct, as that con- 
forming to and advancing the welfare of the individual and 
the race, remains. The increasing understanding of the 
psychical factor changes the view of the mechanisms by 
which such adaptation is reached in human lives. It is a 
complicated matter to make individuals happy, the more 
complicated the individual and the more complicated the 
circumstances that control, the greater the complexity of 
adjustment. The complexity is not alone of the economic 
and social forces that demand recognition and the types of 
efficiencies which the struggle for existence thus remodeled 
enforces; it is also in the inner adjustment of ideas and 
ideals imposed by the complex structure of the world of 
belief and by the world of morals through which its edicts 
are enforced. The simpler biological satisfactions persist. 
Man cannot renounce his nature without paying the penalty. 
Modern psychology, while retaining the status of discipline, 
declines to accept renunciation as a solution. Life remains 
a struggle and a conflict. But the manner of its conduct is 
profoundly altered; the machine gun contrasted with the 
bow and arrow involves no larger a reconstruction than that 
of the mental life required by the change from primitive 
to present-day situations. 

The science of happiness is the most intricate of human 
pursuits. It is to this study that Dr. Wells makes a sig- 
nificant contribution. As a pioneer, he blazes his trail ; oth- 

ix 



x INTRODUCTION 

ers will be guided by his route, though the future highways 
may diverge from his triangulations. His conclusions yield 
a significant picture. Central in the composition stands that 
complex of forces imposed by nature, embodied in the func- 
tions of sex, and from that focus radiating to all the expres- 
sions of human energy, desire, will, conduct. To consider 
the manifestations of sex so insistently and unreservedly may 
seem to many unused to this perspective an unseemly in- 
trusion, or an unworthy degradation. The libido plays with 
the human will, mocks at its attempts to escape its bonds, 
and through the exponent of science reveals the true sig- 
nificance of the mind's expressions. For the unreserve there 
can be and need be no other justification than the necessity 
of facing the facts ; if the position can be established, the 
adjustment to it is itself an obligation. The substitution in 
any measure of an unreal for a real world is precisely one 
of the dangers which the thesis of the volume points out. 
But inherently there is neither degradation nor despair. 
The life of ideals of spiritual adjustment is as fully recog- 
nized as a human need, growing with the advance of culture, 
as any other — for those competent to enter into the king- 
dom, more than any other. The complexities of happiness, 
the steadying and illumination of conduct by conceptions of 
purpose, demand recognition; that the needs of the spirit 
demand the castigation of the flesh is denied. 

The volume moves toward a definite position in regard to 
the control and expression of vital trends. Such a position 
has a direct bearing upon ethics and education and all the 
regulative systems that distinguish between good and bad, 
between the more and less desirable. For adjustment im- 
plies value, indeed sets the standard of value. Dr. Wells at- 
tempts an analysis of the source of such standards, and an 
appraisal of their worth and fitness for the life that we of 
today must attain. With the task thus set, his procedure 
naturally is concerned with orderly unfoldment and presenta- 



INTRODUCTION xi 

tion of detail. Beginning with the biological relations, he 
promptly introduces the mental factor, and presents the mind 
and its products as an instrument of adjustment. The use 
and waste of the mental trends is his theme. Right think- 
ing is the indispensable requisite of right action. The mind's 
privilege is at once its power and its danger. The substitu- 
tion of thoughts for realities takes us back to primitive man 
and the unschooled habits of his mind, to magic and super- 
stition ; it takes us collaterally to the breakdown of mind in 
the forms of insanity, in which the distinction of fact and 
fancy fades. The mechanisms of the process are absorbing. 
The scope of symbolism is important and receives a chapter 
to itself. Humor, rhetoric, magic, dreams, delusion, reflect 
the force at work — a common habit with vastly different 
outcomes. 

Difficulties and failures of adjustment furnish the basis 
for the more elaborate analyses. No life proceeds evenly 
without disturbance. Conflict of trends is inevitable. But 
many of these are of our own making. Man sets up his 
resistances; there is no more characteristic human product 
than the taboo. Restraint without repression is the diffi- 
cult thing. Dr. Wells has much to offer on the intellectual 
side to show the community of the process by which false 
adjustments of the abnormal proceed and those that are re- 
sponsible for the lesser failures. Here particularly the sex 
theme enters. The repressed or buried eroticism finds an 
abnormal vent. The mind loses, or fails to attain its unity 
of expression, its concordant development, and fragments 
break away in dissociated functions. The house is divided ; 
conflicting and rival and disintegrating personalities may 
develop. The study of these forms a part of the argument ; 
they express the risks that are run. Along with the ab- 
normal, the experimental approaches to the problem are con- 
sidered. The nature of intelligence and the modes of test- 
ing it; the scope and significance of individual differences; 



xii INTRODUCTION 

the newer methods of attacking the higher judging processes 
in terms of which adjustment proceeds: these are included 
in the survey. 

The reader will pursue the volume with two increasing 
convictions. The first is that the emotional life is far more 
central in human regulation than we are wont to recognize. 
Happiness is an emotional state; and the mind's finer in- 
tellectual resources are but ways of attaining grades and 
shades of content that transcend the simpler, lesser modes, 
" vacant of our glorious gains. " By reason of the deeper 
rooting of the emotional life in the vital sources of energy, 
is its adjustment at once dependent upon the integrity of 
primitive satisfactions; it likewise pervades all derivative 
expressions of longing and satisfaction. Human nature, as 
it transcends, must also incorporate. The other conviction 
is similar to it: that beliefs, tendencies, inclinations, how- 
ever intellectually expressed, are more complex than cold, 
objective ideas. Optimism or pessimism is more a tem- 
perament than a conviction. In fact, and this is the closing 
theme of the book, much of the mind's energy is to be 
understood as balancing material for imperfectly satisfied 
trends. Failing of one satisfaction, we seek another. Or, 
with the energy originally derived from one need but not 
there absorbed, we employ it to the gain of newer satisfac- 
tions and the profit of the world and ourselves. Never do 
we escape from the system, never do we lose contact with 
the source from which all blessings — and by their abuse, 
all evils — flow. 

So large a theme is capable of varied presentation. Dr. 
Wells reflects his professional interest in the disqualifications 
and liabilities of the abnormal mind ; his training is equally 
adequate in the study of experimental problems among the 
normal. Each reenforces the other and gives to his conclu- 
sions an added value. The work should find its place as 
an aid to the general reader, as a guide to the psychological 
student, whatever his practical interests or his professional 



INTRODUCTION xiii 

purpose may be. Ideas irregularly scattered through the 
technical literature are here brought together, with much 
original interpretation, into a consistent whole. 

Joseph Jastrow. 
University of Wisconsin, 
Madison, Wisconsin, 
March, 1917. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Mental Adaptation I 

II. Use and Waste in Thought and Conduct . 28 

III. Symbolic Association 71 

IV. The Continuity of Emotion . . . .114 
V. Types of Dissociation 153 

VI. Mechanisms in Dissociated Ideas . . . 205 

VII. Experimental Approaches 227 

VIII. Balancing Factors 273 

Index ........... 321 



MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 



CHAPTER I 

MENTAL ADAPTATION 

Every living thing, in order to live, must behave 
toward the outer world in more or less restricted ways. 
The simple bit of living substance that we call the amoeba 
is endowed with only a few of these modes of response. 
It can move by extending its " false feet " in a given 
direction. When it meets a particle of food it must 
spread itself out over it to consume it; when it meets an 
injurious substance it must roll itself into a ball and thus 
offer the least surface. By such behavior, or reactions, 
the animal and its kind survive; the reactions described 
are well adapted for that individual and its environment. 
An amoeba that rolled itself up on touching food, or one 
that spread itself out over poison, would show a condi- 
tion quite similar to those disorders of conduct that, in 
human beings, are called insanity. It would be unable 
to look after itself, and, in the absence of care by its 
fellow-creatures, would perish. Life depends upon 
adapted behavior. 

Organisms higher in the scale of evolution have much 
more numerous and complicated ways of reaction in life. 
They build snares that catch their food, they escape the 
uncertainties of the chase by vegetable supplies which 

2 I 



2 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

they can control, they lay aside stores of food for times 
of scarcity, or for their young. They conceal themselves 
when their enemies are about, they build shelters, they 
form social systems, and a marvelous complexity of re- 
action develops about the reproductive instincts. 

We understand that, in the progress of evolution, dif- 
ferent structures are developed which are adapted to the 
animal's purposes. Of this the protective mimicry 
among insects affords some of the most exquisite exam- 
ples. Similarly, different abilities for reacting develop 
which better meet the demands of the outside world. 
The dragon fly builds no house at all, the mud dauber 
wasp but an unsightly affair; the honeybee builds an 
architectural habitat. History is the record of the modi- 
fication of behavior in the human race. Leander swam 
the Hellespont; his descendants fly it. 

The adaptations that animals must make have a three- 
fold division; the search for food, the lookout for 
enemies, and the continuance of the species. To what- 
ever extent the animal reacts in ways to achieve these 
ends, the organism's behavior is well adapted to its en- 
vironment, or well balanced. The orb weaving spider 
must not come down into its net before it is too dark for 
the wasp to fly; the tiger must not be too slow in seiz- 
ing, or too impatient in awaiting, the deer that comes 
to drink. These would be ineffective carrying out of 
reactions in themselves suitable. But nature so orders 
that actions which are good for one of the animal's in- 
terests may be bad for another. The brook trout in- 
cautiously pursuing the minnow is set upon and devoured 
by the pickerel. The spiderling that loves not wisely 
but too well is seized and eaten by the object of his un- 
welcome devotion. And when the wolf keeps cautiously 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 3 

approaching the bait in the trap and again drawing away 
on perceiving the suspicious scent he shows in simplest 
form the never-ending conflict of instinctive trends, 
which plays a comprehensive part in life, and which in 
human beings is the source of the perplexity of right 
action. 

With the right action determined, the best adaptation 
lies in its most effective accomplishment. How effec- 
tively a given " right thing " can be done is clearly not 
inaccessible to experimental study. The main structure 
of comparative or animal psychology considers such 
problems. We place the animal in a situation to which 
it must react in a certain way to get its food. The 
difficulty of this situation, and the factors that enter into 
it, may be varied within wide limits. We observe 
whether the animal can learn to locate its food by going 
to the right or left, by going where a certain light or 
color is shown, by finding its way through a maze or by 
opening a box; and we can measure how long it takes 
to learn to make these adaptations, as well as how many 
and what sorts of mistakes are made. The comparative 
psychologist tries to find out to how complex and what 
kind of situations the animal can adapt itself, and how 
much its behavior can be modified to make adaptations 
to strange and novel surroundings. 

Only a small part of human psychology has dealt with 
such problems. They are included in the " choice- 
reaction " experiments. The subject is told to do one 
thing when he gets one sort of stimulus, and another 
thing when he gets another sort of stimulus. For ex- 
ample, he is to tap with his first finger when he sees a 
red light, with his second finger when he sees a blue 
light, with his third finger when he sees a green light, 



4 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

etc. In such reactions mistakes will occur now and then, 
just as in typewriting one strikes a wrong key occasion- 
ally although knowing perfectly well which is the right 
key. These " false reactions " are failures of adaptation 
to the circumstances, just as it is a failure of adaptation 
when the animal looks for its food in the green compart- 
ment when it is being trained to look for it in the red. 
The purpose of these experiments is to create situations 
which call for different sorts of movements, and by 
measuring the quickness with which the subject acquires 
these proper movements, and the number of false move- 
ments made, to judge of his adaptive capacity to the situ- 
ations. Every sort of human perception, from color 
sense to moral sense, may thus be dealt with, but we 
meet a certain difficulty when we would interpret these 
observations as directly as they may be interpreted in 
the case of animals. 

The comparative psychologist often deplores the arti- 
ficiality of the conditions to which he has to subject 
his animals. Yet, how much closer to nature they are in 
comparison with the conditions in the laboratory where 
human subjects are tested! No such direct and primal 
motives are likely to enter into our psychological experi- 
ments as the animal's quest for food. To get near these 
we must go to Nature's laboratory, and observe her ex- 
perimental studies of our struggle for existence. If the 
hunter misses his game he misses his dinner, but the 
psychologist who strikes the right-hand telegraph key 
when he should have struck the left merely makes a dot 
in the wrong place on the ribbon record. The differ- 
ence between the adaptations of life and those of the 
laboratory is just the difference between shooting for a 
livelihood and shooting at a target. A good " game- 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 5 

shot " will ordinarily be a fair " target-shot," but a fine 
" target-shot " may be a poor " game-shot." 

Up to this point we have thought of adaptation en- 
tirely in terms of behavior and conduct, thus empha- 
sizing in every case the motor reaction to the outside 
world. This is necessary in order to give the best defi- 
nitions of good and bad adaptations, since it is in these 
objective instances that the good or bad result of the 
adaptation is most immediately evident. We are now 
ready to shift our viewpoint and approach the focus of 
our subject. We all know what a chemical reaction is, 
as the change of zinc and hydrochloric acid into zinc 
chloride and hydrogen; we know what a physiological 
reaction is, as the contraction of the frog's muscle to the 
stimulus of the electric current. Similarly we define our 
highest types of voluntary behavior as reactions for 
which the antecedent situation is conceived as the stim- 
ulus. But it is plain — and also essential — -that the 
movement or behavior observed in such a process is 
very far from implying the sum total of what happens in 
us. If John hears that his absent friend James has re- 
ceived a distinguished honor, his only outward and visible 
reaction may be to write him a letter of congratulation; 
but his total response to the news contains a vast number 
of mental associations — images of his friend and the 
circumstances of his good fortune, pleasure that James' 
qualities have brought a well earned recognition, jealousy 
that he did not get it himself, etc. With nearly all these 
factors we can deal only as activities of the mind. But 
they are just as much reactions to the event as the writ- 
ing of the letter. They may not be involved with any 
direct motor reaction. Thus our sympathies in the Euro- 
pean war, our opinions about Japanese exclusion or 



6 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

woman suffrage, represent our mental reactions to these 
propositions, whether or not they have produced any 
characteristic reaction in our conduct. All mental pro- 
cess is simply mental reaction to what has gone before; 
and these mental reactions, equally with motor reactions, 
are good or bad according as they contribute to the ad- 
vancement or detriment of the organism. Generally 
speaking, sincere pleasure at his friend's good fortune 
would be a good reaction on John's part. Jealousy, a 
feeling that he himself deserved it more, a " what's the 
use of trying " attitude, would be a distinctly bad mental 
reaction. 

Comparative psychology can deal with the men- 
tal processes of animals only by inference from their 
movements ; and it is fair to assume that the animal pro- 
cesses are so much simpler than ours that the behavior 
criterion is adequate. But ordinary good sense tells us 
what a treacherous guide visible human reactions are to 
the motives, real or pretended, that lie behind them, and 
what grievous mistakes would be made, and often are 
made, in attempting to act upon inference from them. 
Most thoughts have no immediate and unequivocal motor 
expression that can be observed. 

A great philosopher asks us to suppose that our whole 
being and all that existence means to us is dependent upon 
our some day winning or losing a game of chess. Is it 
not likely that we should spend considerable time in learn- 
ing the commoner opening gambits and endgames, in 
studying the games of other players, and in the solution 
of problems? What should we think of parents or edu- 
cators who allowed their charges to grow up without 
teaching them that a rook is more valuable than a knight, 
or that a pawn becomes a queen upon reaching the eighth 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 7 

row? Yet the worth of existence depends on success in 
a game infinitely more complicated than that of chess, 
in which no mistake is ever overlooked and no move ever 
taken back, and where knowledge from one's own experi- 
ence often comes too late for use. 

Our moves in this game are the reactions by which we 
seek to adapt ourselves to the play around us, and many 
of the essential reactions are in the form of mental re- 
sponses. Some persons play this game well, others 
poorly ; some, like the feeble-minded, so poorly that they 
cannot play it by themselves at all. A " dynamic 
psychology " brings these reactions together as processes 
of adaptation, with particular reference to the value of 
the experience: whether the adaptation is good or bad 
for the individual. Many mental reactions are bad be- 
cause they seek to meet material wants by a mental path, 
which indeed is easier, but as futile as to seek to escape 
starvation by simply imagining food. Yet exactly such 
attitudes and bad ways of reacting to situations in life 
often result from being misled about the real nature of 
the reactions, and the particular dangers that underlie 
them. The control of the external forces of nature 
means to gain more insight into their principles and an 
ability to act more intelligently in accord with them. 
Thus is the best control over personalities obtained — by 
an open understanding of the forces to which they are 
subject. Plain living and high thinking is an ideal ; but 
high living and plain thinking is another, that is not to be 
despised. 

There are certain things which every animal, from 
amoeba to man, tries to get ; when we see an animal try- 
ing to get a thing, we infer that is something the animal 
wants. The harder the animal tries to get it, the more it 



8 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

is apparent that the animal wants it. So far as we can 
gather, animal wants are regularly pursued to their 
realization except where external factors prevent it; also 
there is probably no human obstacle that does not yield 
to a strong enough human will. But human ambitions 
and desires are much less elementary and more crossed 
or interfered with by opposing internal trends. We may 
want a thing, but it may necessitate our giving up some- 
thing else that we want to keep; or we may dislike to 
face the inconveniences, the hardships, the dangers, that 
are the cost of securing it. All this makes our striving 
for it less effective, perhaps so much so that it becomes 
impossible for us to satisfy the desire. To situations like 
this, which are very common, the mind has definite ways 
of adapting itself. 

There is no better way of showing the principle of 
such reactions than by enlarging somewhat upon that 
sterling and classical illustration of mental adaptation to 
an impossible wish, which is the theme of the parable of 
the fox and the grapes. My colleague, Dr. A. A. Brill, 
would doubtless have made this fox an only child, who 
by flattery and adulation had been persuaded that he was 
an individual of distinctively superior worth and ability. 
His self-love not tolerating the admission that he could 
not reach the grapes, he made the mental adaptation to 
his failure by taking the attitude that they were sour, 
and not worth reaching; there was thus no admission of 
weakness in the failure to get them. But soon he comes 
to a similar bunch of grapes that hangs within an inch 
of his nose. " These are just the same/' he reflects; " if 
I took these, people might think I lied when I said the 
others were sour. I am no liar, but always consistent, 
and true to myself." When at length the pangs of 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 9 

hunger force him to take the grapes, they are spoiled, and 
give him well earned indigestion. 

This first type of adaptation to an unattainable desire 
consists in denying its existence, and minimizing the value 
of the thing desired. "It is a bad type of adaptation be- 
cause the wish is genuine nevertheless, and the false atti- 
tude makes it much harder to meet any future situation 
in which the wish could and should be realized. 

A second type of adaptation concedes the value of the 
end desired, but, in the absence of strength or unified 
will to attain it directly, meets it by imagining a realiza- 
tion. These reactions are much more complex than the 
mere denial of the wish, and their essentially mental 
quality is distinctive. The daydream is the most common 
example. Here a genuine pleasure is obtained from pic- 
turing the trend as realized, though the sense that it is not 
so is preserved, and the subject does not act as if it were 
realized. Mental disease, however, shows instances in 
which these fancies become uncontrolled so that they seem 
to be real; — they are called " wish- fulfilling deliria." 
These are evident substitutions of imagination for real- 
ity, which need only be mentioned to be understood. Just 
as many of us can call to mind music or natural scenery 
in ways that give us pleasure, so it is pleasant to create 
for ourselves images of the more complex events and 
surroundings that represent our ambitions and our hopes. 

The stock of imagination that we get from our own 
experience is powerfully reinforced by the things which 
other people imagine for us, and put at our disposal in 
the form of literature. We read novels for entertain- 
ment, and the source of that entertainment is that the 
stories depict, or at least culminate in, situations in which 
we should like to find ourselves. The small boy likes 



10 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

His " Monte Cristo " because it supplies him with the 
material to identify himself with a great and powerful 
personage such as he would like to be. A novel or simi- 
lar imaginative production holds our interest, " grips " 
us, in so far as it suggests to us persons or episodes that 
we would like to be, have or experience. This is not 
altered by the fact that these likings are not necessarily 
clearly understood. 

Thoughts of pleasant things, things that meet the 
normal trends of our organism, are normally pleasant 
thoughts — thoughts that we like and encourage. But 
that is not always the case; there is a definite state of 
mind in which it is unpleasant and even painful to con- 
template brightness or happiness elsewhere. The suf- 
ferer from melancholia draws his shutters tight upon the 
cloudless day that he may not behold the smiling face 
of nature. A young man of inferior constitution frankly 
admits that he cannot read love stories because they bring 
too near home to him his own failures in this regard. 
In such situations the mind shuns the imagination of 
normal human happiness, and seeks a solution amid 
fancies of tragedy and suffering. Another type of imag- 
inative reaction still presents an abnormal solution of 
our trends; but instead of ending in tragedy, it works 
out a happy solution through situations that are often 
equally remote from reality. Apt illustrations of both 
reactions may be found in the stories of Edgar Allan 
Poe. The depressive or tragic reaction is exemplified in 
such imaginative situations as " The Fall of the House of 
Usher," or " The Pit and the Pendulum " ; the opposite 
is seen in such fancies as " Eleonora," " Ligeia," or " The 
Domain of Arnheim." "The Assignation'' has ele- 
ments of both types. 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 11 

The free imagination of wished-for things results well 
for the mind through painting in more glowing colors 
the excellence of what is wished for, and firing the ambi- 
tion to strive for it the more intensely. In Miss Bryant's 
novel, little Jim Hibbault trudged along by the side of 
his exhausted and self-immolated mother : " I'll make 
roads when I'm big," he told her, " real good ones that 
you can walk on easy " — " A vision of countless toiling 
human beings traveling on his roads all down the coming 
ages, knowing them for good roads, and praising the 
maker." And such roads we know he did build, not 
only for people's feet, but for their lives. No possession 
is more precious than the power to create such visions, 
so long as it gives stimulus for putting them into action. 
But the case is not always so fortunate. 

Physics teaches that if a substance be subjected to 
different forces, such as temperature or pressure, " criti- 
cal points " are reached, that is, points above and below 
which the properties of the substances are greatly differ- 
ent. Water has critical points at 32 °, where it freezes, 
or 212 Fahrenheit, where it changes into steam. 
Imagination acts similarly upon character. It has a criti- 
cal point where we cease to be fired by the imagination, 
but drop back upon it alone. Poets have sung the mental 
delights that may come from nothing but imagery ; what 
is equally important is that imagination carries with it no 
dependence upon, or responsibility to, the external world. 
It is never kept late at its office, and runs up no 
bills. 

This fact, that daydreams are not continually con- 
fronted with experience, makes it possible for them to 
take on forms that do not fit the actual conditions of one's 
life. 



12 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Those as yet without appreciation of the actual values 
of life can in earlier years build up ambitions whose satis- 
faction would never bring satisfaction with life. Such 
false attitudes make it harder to act in ways that bring 
a good adjustment to life. Thus, nearly all younger per- 
sons indulge in imaginations of their future households, 
and yet the more elaborate and fixed these become in the 
mind, the more difficult, perhaps impossible, such ideas 
can make it for the individual to know and attain genuine 
solutions when they present themselves. 

The voluntary movements that we make we regard as 
indeed " voluntary " ; that is, we feel that we acted so 
because, we judged it best so to act, and that we could 
have acted otherwise if we had so chosen. So deep- 
rooted is this feeling of the freedom of our actions, that 
its loss becomes a conspicuous symptom of mental dis- 
ease; the symptom is referred to as " ideas of influence," 
or the " feeling of passivity." This feeling of the inde- 
pendence or control of our actions seems closely associ- 
ated with, is perhaps the cause of, another very promi- 
nent mental fact, namely, a feeling of motive for our ac- 
tions. Since we control our, actions, we want them to 
have a reasonable motive; man calls himself a rational 
animal, one guided by reason in his conduct. Our ac- 
tions thus demand a specific mental adaptation, namely, 
the assignment of satisfactory motives for them. 

The process by which we derive these satisfactory 
motives is known as rationalisation; to rationalize an act 
means to assign a reason for it. The first thing to note 
about rationalization — wherein it differs, as night from 
day, from genuine reasoning controlled by experience — 
is that it is personal and subjective. John tells us that he 
threw up his job because his chief did not treat him 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 13 

fairly; but James, whom the chief treated in quite the 
same manner, does not feel unjustly dealt with. John's 
rationalization does not give the real cause, which lies in 
a difference of personality between John and James. 
James says he does not marry because his income is only 
twenty-five hundred dollars a year, but most people marry 
on far less. We must always seek the ultimate motive, 
and ask why that reason is so effective with this particu- 
lar person. 

Our rationalizations give a motive which our person- 
ality will accept as a fitting one without giving the real 
cause of our actions. Now the real motives for our con- 
duct often go back to fundamental trends which we have 
been taught to regard as degraded ; we believe that we are 
base if we act from such motives; our acts are thus 
rationalized in the name of some other principle that we 
have been taught to respect. If our neighbor insults us, 
we strike him, not because we are angry, but because our 
honor demands it; we refrain from doing so, not because 
we are afraid, but because it would lower our dignity. 
" How can sin be sin," asks one philosopher, " if through 
it I rise to spiritual heights before unknown?" Such 
are our mental adjustments to whatever conduct our 
pugnacity or our temptations may occasion, just as the 
fox rationalized his attitude toward the grapes by assum- 
ing that they were sour. 

Where our impulses are sufficiently strong and united, 
rationalizations play a small role, and may scarcely be 
thought of unless a reason is demanded. " I want to do 
this, I don't need any reason for it," speaks the voice of 
sincerity, self-assured. Rationalizations play their spe- 
cial parts in justifying an uncertain intention and in sup- 
porting an impulse against counter-impulses that are 



14 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

themselves strong enough to block it. The more depend- 
ent we feel upon the need of rationalizing an act, the 
more certainly are powerful influences in the personality 
opposed to it, and the falser the rationalization is likely 
to be. It is natural that the same reasons fail to move 
us at other times and under other circumstances. He 
who tries to be true to his rationalizations may become a 
traitor to himself. He is like a man riding a bicycle, 
who inclines his machine in one direction when his 
natural leaning is toward the other. The test of char- 
acter is the firm adherence to standards of action: what 
things must be done and what things are not to be done, 
and this in defiance of the rationalizations that may be 
present to oppose these principles. The subtlest tempta- 
tion to evil is just that which comes disguised as ration- 
alization of the unworthy impulse. The real conflicts of 
the soul are not between good and evil, but between 
rationalized good and what is truly right. So did the 
Indian mother throw her child into the Ganges, and, as 
a widow, burn herself on her husband's pyre, rationalizing 
these acts as religious duties ; so did many ancients ration- 
alize the slaughter in sacrifice of useful animals and even 
of their fellow men. We have learned to realize the in- 
appropriateness of such conduct, though we still ration- 
alize a value into the sacrifice of many vital personal 
aspirations. 

Of course we apply rationalization not only to our 
acts but also to our opinions and points of view. We 
manufacture or acquire reasons for our likes and dislikes, 
and even more commonly for our approvals and disap- 
provals. If a scientific investigator puts forward a result 
or a doctrine which is distasteful to us personally be- 
cause it shows us in an unpleasant light to ourselves, or 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 15 

because we secretly feel the contribution superior to what 
we ourselves could have made, we are prejudiced against 
the proposal. The office of rationalization is to discredit 
this work to our intellects. Not the least of the obstacles 
to psychological progress is that to be practical it has 
to be personal, and in being so it encounters a host of in- 
stinctive prejudices difficult to deal with because so well 
concealed from their holders. A proper representative 
of psychological science must be able not only to tell the 
truth to his own disadvantage, but also to accomplish the 
harder task of believing it. 

Rationalizations of thought or conduct in terms of 
moral principle are precisely the function of the so-called 
" elastic conscience." Religion, indeed, whose purpose 
is to make people better, may be made to rationalize 
infamous actions. Comprehensive instances are the tor- 
ture of heretics, and the execution of witches. These 
are the work of " cave-keeping " faults of human nature 
which borrowed from religion the convenient disguise of 
an act of faith. 

In short, the object that rationalization serves is to 
provide the feeling of moral and logical justification for 
our acts and thoughts, to supplement our feeling of their 
freedom, and to keep us at temporary peace with our own 
natures. Enough instances have probably been quoted to 
show that the ability to rationalize an act is a slight 
guarantee of its real moral or logical value. Life is 
built of the effects we produce, not of the motives we 
make believe. 

The most important and coherent system of adaptive 
mental reactions that humanity has developed is that of 
religion. The primitive attempts were simple, as were 
perhaps the minds whose needs they met : a conception of 



16 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

how the world arose, of the interference of supernatural 
forces in the world's affairs, of some existence after 
death : these were formulated, and the mind w T as satisfied. 
Religion has always served an important social purpose, 
in giving to a people a sense of solidarity, a faith in their 
common cause, contributing to victory in conflict. This, 
as Karl Pearson points out, gives them great advantage 
over people not bound together by any such ties. 
Natural selection would thus develop a humanity with 
some degree of religious evolution, quite apart from the 
supreme value of religion for the individual. But as 
individual life becomes more complex and fraught with 
difficulties more keenly felt, the mind demands, and sup- 
plies, a religion that will meet its difficulties in a more 
personal way. We must appreciate that there are two 
sorts of these difficulties; one of the simple impossi- 
bility of realizing the conditions of normal human hap- 
piness, which are nevertheless desired and striven for; 
the other the negation of these conditions, which sup- 
plants them by abnormal ideals. Religion has its com- 
pensation for the first of these difficulties, but not for the 
second. The losing that is true dying is not the loss of 
the object of value, but the loss of the sense and impulse 
of its value. The belief in immortality is the response 
of the human mind to the wish for further good things 
it has learned to know on earth; for a continued spend- 
ing of our energies, or a meeting again with loved ones. 
The individual, though failing of the good things of life 
here, has not lost the sense of their value, but wants an- 
other chance at them. If one denies the values of life, 
and tries to live it in ways in which it is not meant to be 
worth living, this faith loses all its sustaining power. 
Rationalizations aside, the persistence of this belief be- 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 17 

tokens in general — not in every one — a better adapta- 
tion to life than the loss of it. Further stimuli to re- 
ligion are the sufferings of those dear to us when we can 
do nothing to help. Powerful religious impulses, as in 
the form of prayer, spring up at such times, which may 
be quite in contrast to one's ordinary habits of thought. 
Again, we make our own sufferings more tolerable; we 
identify them with a cause in which others have suffered 
far more. Are we not frankly told that the Christian 
life is " many a sorrow, many a labor, many a tear," but 
that it brings ultimate triumph, " sorrow vanquished, 
labor ended, Jordan passed " ? What awaits him " who 
best can drink his cup of woe, triumphant over pain " ? 
By the values thus gained we develop the endurance of 
hardship, resistance to temptation, capacity for sacrifice 
and for effort in the face of discouragement, which make 
religion the greatest human force in the control of con- 
duct. 

A large share of human happiness depends on the fit- 
ness of sexual adaptations; most of the wreckage of hu- 
man happiness is strewn upon the reefs with which hu- 
man impulses surround them. The normal adjustment 
of this trend in a regulated life is in marriage, in which 
a man and a woman administer a household and rear 
children. Whatever makes this adaptation easier and 
better is good, whatever makes it worse or more difficult 
is bad. Instinct left to itself regularly takes care of 
itself; but complex adjustments to the requirements of a 
social order must safeguard instincts in the interests of 
these requirements. There is a general principle — a 
phase of the law of inhibition of instinct by habit — that 
it is bad for any instinct to adopt partial responses which 
at some point must be frustrated. Such response de- 
3 



18 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

velops, perhaps unconsciously, a habit of stopping short 
which renders more difficult, when the time comes, the 
completion of the action. This law has its chief human 
application in the erotic sphere. Thus it is well known 
that self-indulgence in the more pronounced reactions of 
flirtation may impair the capacity for the deeper attach- 
ments required in marriage, without which one does not 
make in a whole-hearted way the sacrifices that marriage 
involves. There are bigger fish in the sea than ever 
were caught, but one does not get big fish if little ones 
steal the bait. From the educational standpoint, it is 
wiser to teach this self-control on the basis of health and 
proper care of oneself, than because the indulgence has 
some vaguely immoral quality. One refrains from 
spending every night at the theater, or from drinking a 
dozen glasses of good punch at a reception, and from 
other things that one admittedly would thoroughly enjoy 
doing, when one realizes that these indulgences are not 
good, that they make one feel less fit for more important 
things. 

It appears that just as people differ decidedly in the 
amount of alcohol that they can take with impunity, so 
others are much more unfavorably affected by frustrated 
erotic reactions. If the problem is simply one of elimina- 
tion, the proper conduct of life is relatively definite and 
easy. Some people are so fortunate that they step from 
an apparently extreme inhibition of these reactions to 
a normal adaptation in love and marriage. But others 
who follow this course illustrate, to their cost, that the 
inhibition of instinct by habit, like other good rules, is 
one that works in all sorts of ways. The instinct that 
leads toward sexual reactions does not originally have the 
fixed tendency that it acquires in normal adult existence, 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 19 

but in earlier years is exceedingly subject to distortion; 
there are indeed few things in life to which it cannot at- 
tach itself. If a dead wall of repression is built across 
the development of this trend, it does not accumulate a 
great reservoir of energy for use at the proper time; 
rather it blocks the proper course of a trend which knows 
how to cut many other channels. It is important, there- 
fore, to have in life some positive influences which will 
develop a healthy type of sex consciousness. Good per- 
sonalities do not avoid, but take special pleasure in, vari- 
ous activities when they are shared in mixed company. 
The essential condition of the healthiness of these re- 
actions is that they be accompanied by bodily activity, 
especially of large muscle groups. Dancing is the natural 
prototype of these, if not their best example. A greater 
value in this respect attaches to more active things, such 
as tennis, boating, swimming, various forms of the " wild 
life," and many other, in themselves good, bodily recre- 
ations in which men and women meet upon terms of com- 
mon or competitive effort. Dr. Brill contributes an 
interesting sidelight upon this principle. He obtained 
accounts from many persons in regard to the mental 
effects of some of the new dances, and found that grosser 
erotic feelings are more frequently evoked by watching 
them than by participating in them and thus securing the 
outlet of bodily reaction. 

Attitude and conduct in this sphere are strongly sub- 
ject to the influence of surroundings. It is the soundest 
of observations that example is better than precept, and 
precept better than instruction. In fact, the strongest 
argument against the so-called campaign of enlighten- 
ment in these matters has been that mere information is 
of so little value in governing conduct. One may well 



20 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

know wherein healthy character consists, but the best 
use of such knowledge is to keep one in the society of 
those of strong character. 

Another consideration applies especially in environ- 
ments which invite the intellectual over-refinement of 
erotic feelings. Good personalities react to this trend 
not merely as an instrument of pleasure, nor simply to 
meet its primary biological purpose, but attach essential 
value to both these phases. Of the thousand rationaliza- 
tions of unhappy marriage, every one may originate 
on a physiological level. Neurosis, alcohol and the 
divorce courts wait on those who try to circumvent this 
fact. 

Where the adaptation of marriage is not made, or is 
poorly made, this may be ascribed partly to the nonoccur- 
rence of external opportunities for it, but very largely 
also to the internal resistances which are developed in the 
many ways already mentioned. Though possibilities of 
adequate adaptation present themselves, they go unrecog- 
nized or unreacted to; or if an attempt is made to meet 
them, it is so weak that it is bound to fail. In these cases, 
where personal resistances have played the important role, 
there results, in general, a defective adaptation to life it- 
self, with more or less well concealed embitterment at the 
failure. To the absence of a normal possibility for ade- 
quate adjustment, individuals can adapt themselves quite 
as wholesomely as to the more usual situation, and thus 
live careers of conspicuous social value. Good per- 
sonalities overcome the difficulty by free recognition and 
open acceptance. The effective means to such end is the 
development of strong external interests to prevent the 
withdrawal into self, by any form of direct service to 
society, by the pursuit of idealized ambitions, and thus — 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 91 

like the ancient Epicureans — by cultivating the mental 
luxuries of life, boldly to dispense with its necessities. 

It is a property of human reactions that the feeling 
originally attaching to one set of impressions or reactions 
may be transferred to another that stands in some associ- 
ation with it. This association may be very superficial, 
as, when having much enjoyed a play at a certain theater, 
one looks forward with pleasure to going to that theater 
again, though the play and company are different. 
Again, the association may be very obscure, as it is in 
the symptoms of certain mental diseases. Associations 
come to mean much more to us subjectively than they do 
objectively, through our special experiences in connec- 
tion with them and our elaborations of them. This 
principle plays a great part in mental adaptation. The 
mind can endow certain thoughts and actions with an ex- 
treme value — that is, idealize them. One man tries to 
build as good an automobile as he can; another tries to 
make himself as good a chess player as possible ; another 
finds his ambitions in knowing the most about Shakes- 
peare; another tries to be the most skillful bricklayer. 
Practically anything may be idealized so that it compen- 
sates for the loss of all else, and all else is sacrificed to 
it. The striking thing about these ideals is that while 
some are of great value for one's relation to the external 
world and others of practically none, to the person who 
holds them the latter mean at least as much as the former. 
In itself it means no more to the surgeon to set a difficult 
fracture than it does to the Assyriologist to decipher a 
neglected cuneiform. It can well mean less, for the sur- 
geon earns large sums for repairing injured bodies, while 
the value of deciphering the inscription depends almost 
entirely on the subjective enthusiasm of the scholar. 



22 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Our minds of themselves give sacredness to ideals, just 
as they give convincingness to rationalizations. 

Where such ideals are developed simply as compensa- 
tions for the unlived-out portions of the fundamental 
trends, they serve well their primary purpose of balancing 
the personality, and may, indeed, play an important part 
in enabling the trends to be better lived out. The painter's 
devotion to his art may be of conspicuous economic value 
to him and his family. Certain influences of rationaliza- 
tion and environment may distort the ideals so that they 
have no correspondence with the main trends of the per- 
sonality. An adequate meeting of the fundamental 
trends requires of the individual some degree of self- 
assertion to the external world. Active competition for 
the means of meeting these trends is an essential part of 
getting them, which makes definite demands upon mate- 
rial effort — willingness to act in the service of others, 
aggressiveness against the opposed will of others. The 
things that can be idealized differ widely in the demands 
that they make. Those of the political and industrial 
worlds are great, those of the intellectual and aesthetic 
worlds are relatively small. Rationalization comes to the 
aid of these latter, to help those personalities " who in- 
stinctively crave a refuge from the domineering, refus- 
ing, and wheedling of social enterprises in general," to 
find that refuge in the more passive ideals of this type. 
The most extreme ideals may thus be formed in direc- 
tions that have no expression in action, face no test of 
concrete experience, and whose only satisfaction is self- 
satisfaction. There are many people whose entire happi- 
ness is bought with just such illusions. 

A fox, being forced to content himself with sour 
grapes, fervently declared they were the best grapes he 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 23 

ever ate. But it would be a sorry proceeding to feed 
them to the little foxes, and teach them that there were 
no better things in the world to eat. That education is 
a traitor to society which teaches or allows it to be thought 
that the ultimate values of life lie in directions that tend 
toward satisfaction in self and away from meeting the 
objective fundamental trends of the larger personality. 
Subjective ideals may be a fair substitute for reality, but 
they are a bad preparation for it. Honest people are free 
to assert that a million dollars is a good thing to have, 
and that if money becomes sordid and belittles char- 
acter, it is the fault of the possessor and not that of the 
million dollars. But suppose that at the hands of poor 
and dishonest mentors one had been led to think seriously 
of all money as filthy lucre, the root of all evil, a topic to 
be mentioned only in suppressed whispers, and with 
guilty laughter, a motive whose acknowledgment was a 
confession of turpitude, what would be likely to happen 
when one's ambitions came to depend upon his economic 
competence, or if one had a good chance to win the mil- 
lion dollars or something worth a great deal more? 
Would one so educated and convinced have a firm grasp 
on his opportunity ? Would he make a sound investment 
of his fortune? Would he be likely to spend the income 
from it wisely? It is particularly important that those 
who are responsible for the formation of character in 
others should withstand every impulse to dissemble per- 
sonal difficulties or mistakes of adaptation, and should 
openly appreciate the active, tangible and concretely serv- 
iceable ideals that are likely to bring the best adjustments 
to life in the normal personalities under their influence. 
The course to an adequate mental adaptation is some- 
times stormy, but it is far less devious than the paths by 



24 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

which people contrive to escape it. Its comprehensive 
expression is the feeling of being an influence for good. 
It will be most potent where its results are the most 
clearly seen, and are the nearest to one's deeper impulses. 
This is implicit in the erotic trends. The quest of mate- 
rial possessions, which is the human equivalent of the 
animal's search for food, is again most valuable where 
those possessions are made a means of service; and the 
same is true of the entire group of processes that dynamic 
psychology sums up under the head of " balancing mate- 
rial." It is sometimes thought that the entire concept 
of effectiveness for good in others has its supreme value 
for human adaptation precisely because of analogies, 
more or less remote, to fundamental trends of love. 

Most principles of mental adaptation founded on hu- 
man experience will have more fruitful results the earlier 
in the life of the individual they can be brought to bear. 
Oliver Wendell Holmes remarked that the education of 
a man should begin with his grandfather; eugenics has 
become a catchword; and the supremacy of heredity will 
always be a favored belief with those who must make of 
fatalism a rationalization for do-nothingness. But there 
is a better practical prospect of getting people to do the 
best for children that they have, than for guiding the 
larger actions that may result in having children to edu- 
cate. 

The worst effects of bad heredity often come from the 
fact that it also means a bad home environment for the 
child. The hand that rocks the cradle can also plant 
the seeds of failure and neurosis. They do not neces- 
sarily spring from a bad heredity, and they may come 
upon a good heredity, under a bad environment. 

We may assume that no parents would knowingly in- 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 25 

jure the mental health of their children; yet there is a 
singular blindness in this respect, that is more than mere 
lack of judgment. The parents who spoil their child do 
so in feeding their own self -admiration as parents of that 
child. If unbounded affection for the child often results 
in such harm to him, it is because his adaptation to life is 
not the underlying motive of the affection of his parents, 
to whom he is essentially an instrument for the living out 
of a particular group of feelings. They betray him to 
their own self-love. 

One may truly respect a boy of six, who, when asked 
by his grandmother whether he was not sorry that she 
had hurt her foot, replied that he had tried to be, but 
couldn't. There is no easier way to damage a child's 
character than by artificially stimulating his emotions. It 
is an evil turn to a child, and an all too frequent one, to 
teach or allow him to lash himself into emotion because 
it appears to be the " right way to feel." If we try to act 
as we feel, we are very apt to act only as we think we 
should like to feel ; it is more honest to judge our feelings 
by our reactions. 

The emotional display of sympathy, in particular, is a 
thing that is blessed neither to give nor to receive. Those 
who ridicule our sufferings are better friends to us than 
those who merely pity them. The underlying cause of 
such displays is that it is easier to cry over our friend's 
hurt than to mend it; sympathy may injure the recipient 
by undermining his self-control, and by leading him to 
exaggerate his difficulties. Though such conduct is hard 
in the case of those personally dear to us, it is best to con- 
fine one's appreciation of another's suffering, so far as is 
humanly possible, to doing something objective to 
lighten it. 



26 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Just as that education is of little value which merely 
teaches what without showing how, so, in the breaking 
up of harmful tendencies, the value of education consists, 
not in showing what not to do, but in how not to do it. 
If a drinker is really to give up alcohol, he must not con- 
tent himself with a great show of repentance, resolution, 
and pledges, so making a frontal attack with his weakened 
will upon the strongest temptation his character knows. 
He must make an honest study of his failing, observe the 
conditions, the situations, the personal associations under 
which he tends to yield, and strive in every way to so 
order his life that he will not be subjected to those condi- 
tions; he may thus outflank his enemy, and take him in 
the rear, where he is least prepared for attack. The 
most effective and the most sincere way to get rid of any 
undesirable reaction is to remove the stimulus. 

The ideal education should be guided by the motto, 
" not things to know, but things to do." Let there be 
an irreducible minimum of precept that is not put to the 
test of immediate action. The opportunity of the early 
years to develop motor accomplishments that are of 
proved value in subsequent life should be developed to the 
full. The available forms of manual training have a 
high place in such education. Every boy should be pro- 
vided with some physical attainment of the combative 
type, as a discipline for temper, and against whatever 
situations may demand from him the courage of hostile 
strength. Swimming is to be valued not simply through 
its value for self-preservation, but for the discipline of 
the reflexes that it tests and develops. Dancing should 
also have an unquestioned place for the development of 
the incidental social graces, and to pave the way for the 
growth of a healthy sex-consciousness later on. All these 



MENTAL ADAPTATION 27 

are quite as fundamental as any phase of book learning. 

The healthier the household, the healthier the stand- 
ards of conduct that are likely to develop naturally. But 
the individual cannot know enough of life to direct him- 
self intelligently for his adaptations to it in the times 
when the formation and training of those adaptations 
must take place. This is the responsibility of those who 
are going before. They must see to it that the actuali- 
ties of life burn out all tendencies, however disguised, to 
the self-love and self-consciousness — different names for 
the same fundamental thing — which are the great f oun- 
tainhead of mental maladaptations. They must hold the 
earlier years firmly to the satisfaction of concrete en- 
deavor, of external result, and train these years to strive 
in their life work for none but those constructive ideals 
and values of which older experience — be it that of suc- 
cess or failure — has brought the understanding. Great 
mistakes are still retrieved by keeping others from mak- 
ing them; and great triumphs perfected by spurring 
others beyond them. 

The desire of Jupiter for the nymph, Thetis, was dis- 
pelled by the knowledge that she should bear a son who 
should surpass his father. Better men than Jupiter are 
needed to fulfill such a prophecy; and no good man or 
woman might ask more from life than what this ruler 
of Olympus feared: to rear children who shall be better 
than they. 



CHAPTER II 

USE AND WASTE IN THOUGHT AND CONDUCT 

Living things are complicated structures that absorb, 
convert and expend energy. Human beings are the most 
complicated of them all. A helpful likeness is to those 
machines which make electrical energy out of that pro- 
duced by falling water. Just as different streams con- 
tribute to make the river by whose fall the electric tur- 
bines are driven, so do we derive our bodily energies from 
different sources, such as air, and various kinds of food. 
When electricity is made in the dynamo, it is carried 
away for the performance of a great many tasks ; light- 
ing, moving cars, power for manufacturing. Similarly, 
when our sources of energy have been assimilated into the 
blood stream, it carries their energy to different organs 
which perform different parts of the work by which we 
live. Some of it supplies our muscles, and we carry out 
motions. Some of it goes to internal glands which make 
special chemical substances for the body. Some of it 
operates the processes of digestion. Life is the continual 
conversion of energy derived in these ways, just as the 
dynamo converts into electrical power the force derived 
from the fall of the water. 

The energy of the dynamo is not dissipated, but com- 
mitted to the performance of definite tasks by the wires 
that conduct it. We do not use electrical energy as such, 
but for lighting lamps and the like. In the same way, 

28 



USE AND WASTE 29 

we do not spend our vital energy as such, in an inchoate, 
unorganized manner. We spend it through certain chan- 
nels, into any one of which may flow energy from the 
great common reservoir. It may be part of an organ- 
ism's behavior to turn toward a source of light, to lie in 
wait for prey, to show interest in mathematics. Thus 
the primordial vital energy is differentiated. Any such 
differentiation of an organism's vital energy we shall, in 
this book, speak of as a trend. A trend is a specialized 
portion of vital energy, just as an organ is the name for 
a specialized portion of vital tissue. 

Nietzsche remarked that this conversion and expendi- 
ture of energy is itself the prime fact of life. To him the 
adaptation of that energy for the benefit of the living 
creature is an incidental matter. But, if the energy de- 
rived from our dynamo were spent in such ways as 
lighting little Geissler tubes or operating toy motors, or 
run through meaningless coils of resistance wire, people 
would not pay for the operation of the plant, and it would 
be abandoned. And so, while the expenditure of our 
energies in any sort of way may meet the definition of 
life, yet, if we are to go on living, we must spend it in 
ways that are beneficial to us in our surroundings. The 
dynamo must operate the community's lights, street cars 
and factories. We must breathe, eat, drink, work for a 
living. 

Organisms that do not act properly in these respects 
perish in the course of evolution. We all, therefore, 
have tendencies to act in certain similar ways. We all 
seek air, food, drink, sexual partners. Common tenden- 
cies like these have been spoken of as fundamental trends. 
We know that tendencies to act in these ways need not 
be learned, but are inherited from long lines of ancestors 



30 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

who themselves employed them to their survival. There 
are different names for different kinds of such trends, 
or " behavior-patterns/'' as they may be called. When 
Paramecium turns away from a bit of salt, the action 
is called (negative) tropism. When the hedgehog curls 
up at the approach of danger, the action is called an 
instinct. When the leg muscle contracts on the tapping 
of the kneecap, the action is called a reflex. Precise lines 
between them are difficult to draw, 1 and the distinc- 
tions would not greatly help us. Three points are to be 
noted: first, that life is a conversion and expenditure of 
energy; second, that this energy is expended in specialized 
definable ways; third, that these ways are, and in the 
nature of things must be, very largely of such a character 
as to be of use to the organism in the struggle for 
existence. 

Since the animal needs food, it develops and preserves 
patterns of behavior that result in its obtaining food. 
The spider spins a web, the man works for a wage. 
Since the individual organism has only a limited span of 
existence, only those organisms can continue which make 
use of reproductive functions ; hence, the sexual trends. 
One organism may seek to deprive another of food, or of 
sexual partnership; hence, the fighting or combative 
trends. Stronger organisms may seek to destroy another 
for their own food; hence the trends of flight and con- 
cealment. Greater good to individual organisms results 
if they combine for the common weal; hence the social, 
cooperative trends that we see so highly developed in 
bees, ants, and men. Creatures that behaved in accord- 
ance with these relations survived; others perished. 

Trends that lead thus directly to the advantage of the 

*Cf. von Bechterew, "Objective Psychologie," 20. 



USE AND WASTE 31 

individual and the species surely need no other explana- 
tion than this. They arise and persist because they are 
necessary. The question is not so much why we act in 
accord with fundamental trends, as why we should ever 
act differently. How is it that sometimes the behavior 
of an organism does not serve its '* will to live " ? Is 
the guiding force of heredity, selection and evolution 
sometimes inefficient, or sometimes suspended so that we 
no longer live according to it ? And in these cases, is the 
behavior simply an inchoate dissipation of vital energy 
escaped from the channels that should control it? Or 
does such behavior have special properties of its own? 
In a word, what are the general sources and character- 
istics of faulty adaptations? 

Apart from the human species, the main cause of faulty 
adaptations does not lie in the failure of the instincts or 
behavior-patterns as such. Faulty adaptation results be- 
cause the external situation is an exceptional one. The 
instincts with which the animal is racially endowed pro- 
vide no proper response to it. The energy from the 
dynamo is thrown through the accustomed motor, prop- 
erly wired. But the motor is now connected to different 
machinery, or improperly connected with the machinery 
which it is designed to operate. Gears are jammed, or 
there is an obstruction among the moving parts. The 
operation is ineffectual, or even destructive. 

The dodos of the Mauritius had no instinct for flight ; 
hence they were promptly exterminated by the men, to 
whom they were unaccustomed. It is perfectly correct 
conduct for the pickerel to chase a small bright object 
flashing through the water, because as a rule it is a little 
fish, good for food. Only exceptionally is it a trolling 
spoon. In these cases we have a great change in the sit- 



32 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

uation confronting the animals, which takes place more 
quickly than their instincts can meet it by evolution. 
Either issue means death to the individuals concerned. 
Yet it is not, so to speak, the animal's " fault "; the ani- 
mal is acting in strict accordance with behavior-patterns 
whose fitness was demonstrated by the whole experience 
of its race. So might a horde of savages rush to death 
against the hail of machine guns. 

The reaction may not be harmful, but simply one which 
the changed conditions have rendered superfluous for the 
fundamental trend it served. A well fed house cat will 
continue to watch for mice, and the sportsman does not 
kill game for the need of food. Such reactions cannot, 
strictly speaking, be called " faulty." Those of the 
sportsman serve another important trend — the preserva- 
tion of physical vigor. 

When the spider consumes the fly it has caught, that 
represents the final and direct issue of a fundamental 
trend. But, that this end may be reached, preliminary 
steps are necessary. The fly, having been caught in the 
net, must be wrapped ; the net must first be spun to catch 
the fly. The spinning of the net is some steps removed 
from the satisfaction of the need for something to eat. 
Now, the spider will not eat an imaginary fly if no fly 
is there, but it will spin a web where no fly can possibly 
come. The more of these preliminary steps there are, 
the greater the possibility that some of the more remote 
ones will be unadapted to the given situation. Thus, the 
whole trend may be improperly met, for the spider would 
not then catch the fly. In the human race, the time and 
energy spent in the direct approach to organic satisfac- 
tions is, indeed, insignificant in comparison with the re- 
mote approaches. A man refrains from alcohol that he 



USE AND WASTE 33 

may do better work, so that he may earn more money, 
which will enable him to marry, that he may rear chil- 
dren. And if there be many a slip twixt the cup and 
the lip, there will be many more between the pay envelope 
and the cradle of a descendant. A subsidiary factor in 
making a reaction faulty is thus the remoteness of the 
reaction from the final satisfaction of its trend. 

It is possible thus to understand a certain amount of 
unadapted human behavior. In days when contests be- 
tween men depended more upon simple bodily strength 
than is now the case, anger was useful because it made 
the strength discharge more vigorously. It has small 
value when it must be restricted to such externally use- 
less reactions as clenching the fists and teeth ; yet it per- 
sists. These reactions used to be good for the individ- 
ual, but are now bad, because time and circumstance have 
changed. Don Quixote is a psychopath because his be- 
havior is adapted only to an age gone by. 

In sum, when we see an unadapted reaction among the 
lower animals, it generally represents one that has been 
useful on other occasions, which the animal is not able to 
distinguish from the present one. Such a reaction is 
still an attempt to meet the situation in accordance with 
the will to live. Though misdirected and ineffectual, it 
is yet a true part of the struggle for existence. If the 
animal fails, it is simply because its energies and the 
trends in which they are directed, though normal, were 
not such as enabled it to meet that situation. Thus it 
was not the aptest of similes when the novelist com- 
pared the weakness of one of his characters to the " tro- 
pism of a medusa or plant." The desire of those organ- 
isms is unswerving; they have no doubts, fears, or scru- 
ples; it is their external force which is slow, feeble, or 

4 



34 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

blind. Never was lover more constant to his lady than 
Paramecium to H 2 C0 3 . 

Thus the first great factor in maladjustment is the lack 
of adaptation to altered conditions. It is naturally one 
that operates most among animals dependent upon their 
instincts, whose behavior is not readily modifiable. By 
definition we should expect less of it among men, for 
intelligence means precisely the property of so recom- 
bining our behavior-patterns as to act better in novel sit- 
uations. 

Among the higher animals, however, there are already 
indications that the altered situation may not tell the 
whole story of unadapted behavior. The conventional 
dog, when his master dies, refuses food, and will not 
leave the grave, even starving himself to death. If we 
examined the dog's digestive tract, we should probably 
find that under the emotion it was not functioning prop- 
erly, and was not in a position to assimilate food. But 
there is no strange factor in the surroundings to prevent 
the taking of food. There was never a time in the his- 
tory of dogs when it was bad for them to take food on 
the death of a master. This seems wholly unbiological 
conduct, perhaps the first instance of its kind that we 
meet as we ascend the scale of evolution. It is now an 
internal difficulty that prevents the eating. There is now 
another trend, an emotional one, which prevents the feed- 
ing instinct from expressing itself in action. 

When one trend thus opposes another, there ensues a 
second great source of maladjustment of the reaction, 
which is spoken of as a mental conflict. 

A man can meet complex and unfamiliar situations 
better than a lower animal can, because he has a greater 
variety of trends and behavior-patterns which he can 



USE AND WASTE 35 

bring to bear upon them. He is not bound by the in- 
stincts which make the ant so perfect in its place and so 
helpless outside of it. But this greater number of trends 
makes possible an interference of one with another in 
more ways than is the case with the few behavior-pat- 
terns of a lower animal. A dog has but to eat the food 
which is given him, defend himself or his possessions 
if they are physically threatened, and multiply his kind 
if the occasion is presented. No one of his trends is 
likely to cause a more than momentary interference with 
another of them. A man, on the other hand, must go 
through a long period of learning artificial principles of 
conduct to which he must conform. He must bring into 
conformity with these his means of getting food, shelter, 
love, offspring. He must strike a balance between his 
fondness for ease and his ambition for advancement. 
He must make a choice of sexual partners that will be 
decided enough to force its attainment against all ob- 
stacles or rivals. He must make permanent sacrifices of 
an independence he ardently desires. 

Personal ambition often runs counter to love, honesty 
to desire for money, etc. A fundamental trend, like that 
of sexuality, may not be lived out because another trend 
of the personality is strong enough to block it, or because 
no choice of a partner is sufficiently decisive. Then a 
faulty adjustment to life results through mental conflict. 
Similarly, the dynamo of our illustration must serve the 
different trends of the community's interest — light, trac- 
tion, manufacture. The portions of energy devoted to 
these several uses must be insulated, one from the other. 
If wires cross, the system will fail. 

The Southern boy in " The Perfect Tribute," rushing 
along the street, collides with President Lincoln. " Do 



36 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

you want all of the public highway?" he exclaims. 
" Can't a gentleman from the South even walk in the 
street without — without . . ." " My boy," replies the 
President, " the fellow that's interfering with your walk- 
ing is down inside of you." Thus the internal character 
of the difficulty may least of all be appreciated by the 
one subject to it. Even the dispassionate observer can 
more easily surmise the existence of mental conflict than 
know the trends that are parties to it. The conflict may 
be manifested simply in the failure to live out a normal 
trend in the individual's character, in the presence of the 
usual opportunities for doing so. The great majority 
of those who do not marry are simply those in whom the 
trends that lead to marriage are weakest in proportion 
to the trends that oppose it. Divided love is weak love, 
and weak love is the only hopeless love. We can see the 
failure of the fundamental trend: social failure, sexual 
failure, economic failure. But as the boy did not see 
what prevented him from walking, so we can seldom see 
at once the things that beget failure. From whatever 
source they may come, such vague counter-trends that 
conflict with or block normal trends of the personality 
are called resistances. A miser has resistances to the 
normal expenditure of money; a prude has great sexual 
resistances. 

It is plain that not all our trends are equally blocked by 
such resistances. No one questions the wisdom or moral 
propriety of breathing, or drinking when one is thirsty. 
These activities are altogether too necessary. Resist- 
ances begin to appear in other trends, where the response 
is less immediately urgent and definite. Consider, for 
example, the taking of food. Ellis points out that in 
some savage tribes the dominant " complex " of modesty 



USE AND WASTE 37 

centers not about the sexual trends, but about those con- 
nected with eating. We are told that the Bakairi of Cen- 
tral Brazil have no shame about nakedness, but are 
ashamed to eat in public; they hung their heads in con- 
fusion when they saw the explorer (Von den Steinen) 
innocently eating. Traces of this are not wanting in civ- 
ilized experience. We are accustomed to take our food 
in groups, at certain times, and in certain regulated ways. 
Most people would feel considerable resistance to munch- 
ing the homemade sandwich in a well filled Pullman car. 
This would be greatly lessened if a companion were join- 
ing in the indulgence, and would disappear entirely if the 
remaining passengers did so, or the hunger were urgent. 
And as the dog refuses to eat at the death of his mas- 
ter, so do human beings observe ritual fasts of a cognate 
but more complex order. 

The economic trend, for amassing as much of this 
world's goods as may be, is blocked by two external fac- 
tors. These are the competition of rivals, and the legal 
restrictions imposed by the community. On the other 
hand, a man's business may not grow because he refuses 
to take the advantages used by his unscrupulous rivals, or 
because he lacks their aggressiveness. 

And so we find that the sexual trend, that which means 
less to individual existence than air or food, indeed 
largely restricts its freedom, is the one about which the 
greatest resistances have arisen. Its internal conflicts 
are, on the whole, greater than the external difficulties 
besetting it. The role of these conflicts in mental mal- 
adaptations is more striking than the conflicts in other 
trends. This is certainly not because of the greater 
strength or urgency of the need. The needs for air, 
food and water make far more coercive demands upon 



38 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

our conduct. It is because, in proportion to the strength 
of the need, there is much more difficulty in meeting it. 
But this difficulty is not external. It is the same as ap- 
plies to Lincoln's pedestrian encounter. We see the ex- 
ternal, organic satisfactions readily obtained by those not 
inhibited by inner influences to which we give such names 
as conscience, modesty or fear. The actual blocking 
trends are usually more instinctive and less near the sur- 
face ; they are rationalized, that is, made explicit and de- 
fensible, by giving them the names of conscience, and the 
like. 

In the first instance, human love is not an elementary 
instinct for the sexual embrace, as hunger is an instinct 
for eating, or thirst an instinct for drinking. Love must 
meet a desire for reproduction, a desire for sensory 
pleasure, a desire for companionship, a desire for mas- 
tery, a desire for self-submission, in many cases a need 
for aptness in domestic accomplishments. A man may 
be attracted by a woman's beauty and repelled by her 
manners. A woman may find a man's courage admirable 
and his coarseness disgusting. It may thus be impossible 
to gratify one trend of love without sacrificing another. 

The need of air is a constant instinct for inhaling gas 
of a certain sort. Things one likes to eat change more 
or less, but the changes are generally not hard to meet, 
nor very great. The sexual trends readily and greatly 
change their direction, and the change is not so easy to 
meet as when it occurs in the other trends. What at- 
tracts on the dancing floor, in the drawing-room, at the 
supper table, may disgust on the tennis court, in the 
kitchen, at the breakfast table. One may have different 
food on the table, but not so easily a different person at 
the opposite end of it. Different qualities also attract or 



USE AND WASTE 39 

repel men and women according to their stage of devel- 
opment. The same qualities do not command admiration 
at fourteen, eighteen, twenty-five and thirty-five. Differ- 
ent solutions of life's reactions are accepted at these peri- 
ods. Foods and climate may not be present in greater 
variety than possible sexual partners, but they are more 
easily changed. 

Thus there appear three classes of reasons why sexual 
trends are especially involved in internal conflicts: first, 
they are less immediately concerned with the individual's 
survival than the other fundamental trends; second, the 
proper satisfaction of sexual trends involves an especial 
range of aims which may be inconsistent with one an- 
other; third, these aims are unusually shifting and sub- 
ject to developmental change. 

These are some of the ways in which conflict blocks 
the normal trends of the organism. The immediate re j 
suit of the blocking is that the trend is not lived out, and 
some organic need is not met. The consequences — the 
ways in which the organism seeks to adapt itself to the 
failure — must be left for later consideration. 

A spider, from which one fly has escaped, does not 
tear the new web to pieces, but waits patiently for an- 
other fly. The angler, from whom a fish has escaped, 
does not throw away his tackle, but rebaits it and makes 
further casts. The minor role played by such external 
failures, disappointments and sorrows is in contrast to 
the great role which internal conflicts — opposing trends 
within the personality — play in the maladjustment of 
behavior. It is not the whole-hearted lover whom dis- 
appointment drives to suicide, but the one to whom the 
conflict between love of woman and love of self has be- 
come intolerable. The " real," objective difficulties do 



40 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

not of themselves induce faulty psychomotor reactions 
to the situations they create. Much of O. Henry's lit- 
erary genius lay in his portrayals of this relation. Nor- 
mal persons do their best, though their surroundings 
bring them neither assured nor agreeable food, nor com- 
fortable shelter, nor good sexual adjustments. Human- 
ity has braved greater trials than ever caused despair. 
It is equally well known that great external possessions 
do not guarantee contentment or good mental balance. 
" Although Tommy Merton had everything he wanted, 
he became fretful and unhappy." Mental balance de- 
pends more on knowing what one wants than upon get- 
ting it. 

Human ingenuity has mainly been concentrated against 
the external difficulties of existence, to attain the " mas- 
tery over nature." The growing intra-psychic conflicts, 
on the other hand, have not so successfully been dealt 
with. While man's adjustment to his surroundings is 
no longer threatened by the tiger of the jungle, it 
is still destroyed by more insidious forces within him- 
self. 

When the dynamo is properly connected, the energy it 
discharges must proceed along wires, and do its work 
through motors, coils or lamps. If, however, a circuit 
were arranged so that the current could discharge with- 
out overcoming the resistances opposed by the lamps or 
motors, it would not travel through them, and they would 
lie dark and still. Such a circuit robs the machines of 
the energy needed to perform their tasks. It is known 
as a " short circuit." The current does not go out to do 
the work required of it, but takes the " easiest way " of 
discharge. 

We have seen that as the current goes out to its work 



USE AND WASTE 41 

through motors, so the living organism must go out to 
satisfy its vital needs through the chase, the snare, or rec- 
ompensed labor. But the human mind has a property of 
presenting desired things to itself somewhat as if they 
were really there, though actually they are not. A thing 
presented in this way is called a mental image. If it is 
especially hard to distinguish from a real thing, or is mis- 
taken for a real thing, it is called a hallucination. Freud 
believes — with few followers 2 — that the original or- 
ganism actually hallucinated its needs as satisfied, and 
only when this imaginary satisfaction failed did it have 
recourse to seeking the real satisfactions. While this 
does not seem likely, there is no question that we get from 
experience the material to construct such images. After 
such experience, a need might be met either by the " real " 
" power-circuit "of external reaction, or by the " short- 
circuit "of imaginal or hallucinatory reaction. 

But the animal that hallucinated air would suffocate, 
and spiritual affinities leave no offspring. Such reactions 
will be inadequate because they can never meet funda- 
mental organic needs. We see here another chief factor 
in the waste of vital energy and in the production of in- 
adequate reactions. Such reactions are produced by a 
basal tendency of organisms to seek pleasant experiences 
and avoid unpleasant ones. They belong to a class in 
which the external effort is felt as too unpleasant (ap- 
parently because of the labor and struggle it demands). 
The unpleasantness of the external reaction is avoided by 
seeking satisfactions within the self. " My mind to me 
a kingdom is." Such short-circuiting of vital energy is 
technically called introversion. 

2 Cf. Pfister, D. psa. Met., 259. A translation by C. R. Payne 
(Moffat Yard & Co.) appears as this volume is in press. 



42 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

A state of introversion, sufficiently pronounced, char- 
acterizes an important type of mental disease. 

These examples will give you, I trust [says Jung, in 
reviewing a case of this nature], an idea of how rich is the 
inner life of this patient, who, in apparent dullness and 
apathy, or, as we say " demented," has now sat for twenty 
years in the workroom, mechanically occupied with her sew- 
ing, and occasionally bringing out a few disconnected frag- 
ments of speech, which no one has understood till now. 
Her fantastic jumble of words we now see in another light; 
they are fragments of cryptic epigraphs, bits of a fairy- 
land fancy that has loosed itself from bitter reality to found 
its own distant kingdom, whose banquets are ever spread, 
and in whose golden palaces a thousand feasts are cele- 
brated. To the dim cloud-world of real things she leaves 
only a few unintelligible symbols, which need not to be 
comprehended, for she has long since ceased to ask that 
we understand her. 

Persons in the extremes of this condition do not per- 
form the simplest acts for themselves. They must be 
fed by tube, and they exercise no restraint in obeying 
natural wants. They appear stuporous, but close study 
has given various evidence that they are not so. They 
appreciate their surroundings, and their minds are active. 
But their vital energy is short-circuited through their own 
bodies so that they no longer react to their surroundings 
in ways consistent with a regulated life. 

The factor of pleasure can distort the reaction in other 
ways besides introversion. People take alcohol and other 
harmful drugs, like morphine or cocaine, for the enjoy- 
ments they afford. Much energy may be externally spent 
in obtaining the means for these gratifications. The ef- 
forts to obtain them are the purest instances of energy 
misspent for the pleasure obtained through misspending 
it. For alcohol, morphine, etc., are harmful from the 



USE AND WASTE 43 

outset; they are useful only in special circumstances not 
frequent enough to give rise to an instinctive trend. The 
enjoyments of alcoholism and morphinism are not in- 
volved with fundamentally useful trends as are enjoy- 
ments of sexual or gastronomic dissipations. It is as 
though the energy of the dynamo were indeed carried 
outside, but spent in destructive ways, or at best only in 
lighting the little Geissler tubes, which look pretty 
enough, but do no useful work. 

But in the healthier ways also, one may spend a great 
deal of intelligent external effort in obtaining pleasures 
whose enjoyment is not good for the organism. These 
belong to a class already considered, in which the reac- 
tion is in itself legitimate, but bad in the particular situa- 
tion. Probably most (though not all) reactions that give 
pleasure are also parts of trends which at some times 
and under some circumstances have been useful to the 
organism. It is the change in time and circumstance 
that makes them harmful. Sugar, which is pleasure- 
able to eat, is, in general, good. It is when one eats too 
much, or when the stomach is disordered, that it makes 
one sick. The pleasures of sexual relationships are in- 
dubitably useful for racial continuity; but they may also 
lead to excessive and harmful indulgence. 

To sum up briefly the points of discussion : the use of 
vital energy lies in its discharge along ways that produce 
action necessary to the organism's survival. These ways 
we call the fundamental trends. In the first instance they 
are concerned with the performance of vital functions, 
such as respiration, nutrition and reproduction. Com- 
bative and social trends arise as adjuncts and supplements 
to these. Human conduct is made up of a great many 
different trends or behavior-patterns which serve the sev- 



44 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

eral ends, though often very indirectly. The use of vital 
energy is like the use of electric power from a dynamo. 
Energy is converted for the body's use, as the power of 
the falling water is changed into an electric current. The 
fundamental trends represent the several functions which 
the current can perform: like food seeking, sexual reac- 
tions, combativeness on the one hand; light, heat and 
power on the other. 

The waste of vital energy lies in expenditure of it 
which does not serve, or may even hinder, the activity 
of the fundamental trends. The general ways in which 
it takes place are: (i) A change in the external situa- 
tion which makes the instinctive reaction inappropriate, 
as when the fish bites the baited hook. This reaction 
corresponds to a motor properly connected to the dy- 
namo, but improperly to its machines. (2) The more 
remote any reaction is from the end-realization of the 
trend of which it is a part, the greater the chance of its 
being inappropriate according to principle (1). (3) 
Different trends of the personality may oppose one an- 
other (e.g., desire and modesty), causing mental conflict. 
The multiplicity of human trends makes this an espe- 
cially important factor in the case of man as compared 
with animals. Animals are more subject to disturbances 
according to principle (1). Mental conflict corresponds 
to the crossing of electric circuits. The trends involved 
are more or less blocked. (4) If the conflict is mainly 
between a trend and external obstacles, without impor- 
tant division of the personality against itself, the disturb- 
ance of mental adaptation is not nearly so serious. (5) 
The shirking of effort necessary for the realization of 
fundamental trends seeks satisfaction in subjective men- 
tal activity (e.g., day-dreaming). This corresponds to 



USE AND WASTE 45 

the short-circuiting of electric energy and the resulting 
failure to travel through its appointed ways. It is called 
introversion. It is a very serious factor in maladjust- 
ment. (6) Pleasures harmful to the organism may also 
be sought through external effort. They may be harm- 
ful generally, as alcohol; or only incidentally, like over- 
eating a craved food. 

In presenting these points, we have many times crossed 
the boundary between the motor and mental varieties of 
behavior, granting, indeed, that such a boundary exists. 
The same principles that operate to make an action use- 
ful or not, operate to make a thought useful or the re- 
verse. Like conduct, thought is useful if it aids in the 
adaptation to surroundings, wasteful if it fails to do so. 
We shall see how conscious thought is apparently an es- 
sential factor in some of the more complicated adapta- 
tions. But we shall also see that men can, and do, afford 
to think more loosely, and in a much greater variety of 
ways, than they can afford to act. If the pilot makes 
port, in Frazer's metaphor, it matters little if he steers 
by a Jack-o'Lantern or by the stars. 3 A savage can well 
afford to believe that the earth is flat, and for him it is 
"true" that the earth is flat. We must not judge the 
usefulness or wastefulness of a thought in terms of any 
" absolute " truth or falsity. Ideas have been practical 
that have later been found untrue, such as the primitive 
belief regarding the earth's form. Other things that we 
may accept as true, like the binomial theorem, are still 
without practical significance to the mass of us. Now if 
belief began and ended with belief, without representation 
in conduct, it would be proper enough for one to think 

5 Cf. Macallum, "Scientific Truth and the Scientific Spirit." 
Science, 43 (1916), 439-446, » 



46 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

that the earth is flat, or that eclipses are made by witch- 
craft. But the savage who thought eclipses were made 
by witchcraft would be apt to waste his energy in vain 
charms against them, while his wiser brother made them 
the occasion for gathering scientific knowledge. Thus it 
is that certain ideas — such as that you can injure your 
enemy by injuring a likeness of him — are, when acted 
upon, much more likely to result in unadapted behavior 
than certain other ideas, such as that you can injure your 
enemy by piercing him with a spear. The former kind 
of ideas we call false ideas, the latter true ones. What 
distinguishes true ideas from false ones is simply that 
true ideas are represented in conduct by useful reactions, 
and false ideas by wasteful ones. 

Consecutive thinking consists of associations of ideas. 
" Associative thinking " — though a tautological term — 
will be useful as a generic term for all kinds of thinking. 
Some kinds of associative thinking are represented in con- 
duct by useful reactions, and are " true " thinking; other 
kinds by wasteful reactions, and are " false " thinking. 
But, in this conception, what is true at one time and place 
is false at another time and place ; not even a " hair per- 
haps divides the false and true/' We therefore avoid 
these terms, with their ingrained connotation of a sharp 
contrast. 

We do, however, conceive associative thinking as 
of two sorts, one of which " works " and the other 
does not. The kinds of thinking which work (as that it 
will injure your enemy to pierce his breast with a spear) 
have been called realistic thinking (Bleuler, Freud), or 
directive thinking (Jung, quoting James). The kinds 
which do not " work " (as that it injures your enemy to 
behead an image of him), have been called autistic think- 



USE AND WASTE 47 

ing (Bleuler), or phantastic thinking (Jung). We shall 
use Bleuler's terms of realistic and autistic, because he 
has given us the fullest and clearest development of the 
conception. To summarize : 

Associative thinking divides into: 

" False," ori "True," or" 

Phantastic ^Thinking and Directive ^Thinking 
Autistic 



Thinking and Directive 
Realistic 



In general, a tendency to realistic, " logical," " com- 
mon-sense " thinking grows in us by reason of its service 
in meeting our situations favorably and wholesomely. 
Just as useful patterns of behavior tend to be perpetuated, 
and harmful ones to disappear by selection, so have the 
modes of thought that are more useful tended more and 
more to order our important actions. Almost the entire 
thinking of primitive humanity was governed by indis- 
criminate, simply associative modes of thought, not yet 
subjected to the selective test of "working" or failure. 
Autistic thinking in relation to the sphere of voluntary 
conduct is therefore very prominent in them. Such 
thinking appears in the foreground of mental disease as 
we see it to-day. But in normal persons, autistic think- 
ing is gradually being relegated to less essential functions, 
like dreaming, wit, and forms of mental recreation. In 
the mentally healthier persons, this relegation and selec- 
tion is the more complete. Realistic and directive think- 
ing has been more and more selected for survival. " The 
more nearly custom represents a direct reaction on the en- 
vironment in the actual struggle for material aids to ex- 
istence, the more rational [realistic] a test does it 
undergo; and, conversely, the more derived the societal 
forms, the more clearly do they fall under the tests 



48 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

of tradition [which are autistic] rather than of rea- 
son." 4 

It has been indicated that the most fundamental needs 
of human nature, like those for air and water, are com- 
paratively free from such autistic interference. The food 
of which the Malagasy warrior is deprived by his peculiar 
superstition 5 may be a convenient one, but it is not es- 
sential to his existence. If it were essential, the super- 
stition would not arise. There is a " critical point " in 
autistic thinking, beyond which wasteful acts in accord- 
ance with it will not be performed. Carveth Read 6 cites 
a tribe which regarded as a spirit or ghost a large eel 
living in a nearby stream. In consequence, no one might 
drink at the stream. One pool, however, " for conven- 
ience," was not included in the tabu. 

The genial discoverer of roast pig had to burn his 
house down whenever he desired this delicacy, until he 
found that it could be prepared at a smaller fire built for 
the purpose. In like manner, some savages must needs 
abandon a house in which a person has died, but others 
avoid this waste of property by simply carrying the corpse 
out through a hole in the wall, which is immediately 
stopped up so that the ghost cannot find his way back. 
An ax is a pretty necessary tool for the savage; hence, 
the Australians mentioned by Sumner exempt it from the 
burial to which they commit the remaining possessions of 
the deceased. As Read sums it up, " a conflicting desire 
creates a limiting belief." 

On the other hand, autistic thinking retards the correct 
interpretation of a fact, where the fact has not the imme- 

4 Keller, "Societal Evolution" (1915), 132. (Matter in brackets 
added.) 

5 Described infra, p. 57. 

6 " Psychology of Animism," Br. J. Psych, 8 (1915). 1-32. 



USE AND WASTE 49 

diate and practical significance that obtains in the above 
instances. In 1878 a man published a rinding, based upon 
" exhaustive investigation of the instrument," that the 
Edison phonograph produced its effect not by mechanical 
but by fraudulent means. 7 Joseph Conrad gives two ex- 
cellent delineations of such adherence to autistic modes of 
thought, opposed to the face value of the data of sense- 
experience : 

. . . and he knew that they were all brothers, and also 
immortal. The death of the artist, who was the first white 
man whom he knew intimately, did not disturb this belief, 
because he was firmly convinced that the white stranger 
had pretended to die and got himself buried for some mys- 
terious purpose of his own, into which it was useless to 
inquire. Perhaps it was his way of going home to his own 
country? . . . 

. . . Moreover, they disliked Arsat, first as a stranger, 
and secondly, because he who repairs a ruined house, and 
dwells in it, proclaims that he is not afraid to live amongst 
the spirits that haunt the places abandoned by mankind. 
Such a man can disturb the course of fate by glances or 
words; while his familiar ghosts are not easy to propitiate 
by casual wayfarers upon whom they long to wreak the 
malice of their human master. White men care not for 
such things, being unbelievers and in league with the Father 
of Evil, who leads them unharmed through the invisible 
dangers of this world. To the warnings of the righteous 
they oppose an offensive pretense of disbelief. What is 
there to be done ? 8 

We have no means of knowing whether our thinking 
is realistic or autistic unless we are aware of it, unless it 
is consciously entertained. We shall therefore consider 
the question: under what circumstances is (conscious) 
realistic thinking a requisite part of adequately meeting 
a situation? 

7 Quoted by Pfister from Kemmerich, " Kulturkuriosa." 

8 " Tales of Unrest," 161-162, 323-324. 

5 



50 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Whether or not an animal survives in the world de- 
pends in the first instance on how it acts toward its en- 
vironment, and not on how it thinks about it. To the 
child or primitive man it makes little difference whether 
he thinks of the rain as atmospheric precipitation or as 
angels' tears for the world's wickedness, so long as he 
has sense enough to come in out of the rain. But if an 
Indian is about to go seal hunting, or the child to grow 
a little garden, much more depends on good foretelling 
of the weather. Then it would work better to consult 
meteorological observations than police court records. 
But such action involves looking upon the rain not as 
angels' tears, but as atmospheric precipitation. People 
who acted on the former supposition would not foretell 
the weather so well. In this way, certain kinds of 
thought or belief are useful, others wasteful or harmful; 
some serve to direct actions which result well, others 
badly. 

We regard the action as dependent on the thought be- 
cause the action would not take place without the previous 
presence of the thought. Further example may show 
more clearly this direct dependence of a well adapted 
action on a certain kind of thought. Suppose I am to 
interview a man living in Pittsburgh; I naturally order 
my plans to go to Pittsburgh. Meanwhile my eye falls 
on a telegram announcing that he has gone to Buffalo. 
My conduct will be altered in response to that stimulus, 
and I shall not go to Pittsburgh, but to Buffalo. But, 
unless the idea that he is now in Buffalo has first come to 
my awareness, I shall still go to Pittsburgh, and miss him. 

Again, the information " he has gone to Buffalo " 
being received, there must be a correct interpretation of 
it. There must be a correct mental reaction to it that 



USE AND WASTE 51 

there may be a correct bodily reaction. I must not think 
that he can be in Pittsburgh and Buffalo at once. I must 
not think that only his body has gone to Buffalo while his 
soul is still in Pittsburgh. I must not think that he is to 
be reached in the buffalo range at the Zoological Park. 
These " autistic " modes of interpretation must be 
avoided. I must realize that the fact of his having gone 
to Buffalo precludes my meeting him anywhere but in 
the city of Buffalo. Only then shall I act properly by 
going there. 

Many activities have not this dependence upon a proper 
mental reaction. Digestion and procreation go on no 
matter what fantastic ideas one may have concerning 
them. We do not have to reflect that we are being 
burned, to draw the hand away from the flame. Only 
the more complex vital activities are thus dependent on 
correct antecedent thought. 

It is when the question of the control or application 
of the facts of nature enters that it makes a difference 
whether our thought about them is " true " or " false." 
Thinking that is true, i. e., that fits in with all experience 
by which it can be tested, is what has been termed 
" realistic thinking." Thus the thought " I should go 
to Buffalo myself if I wish to see the man who has gone 
there," is a part of realistic thinking. If I thought that 
I might save myself the trouble and expense of going 
to Buffalo by simply holding telepathic communication 
with him, that would be out of accord with experience. 
It would belong to the other type of mental activity, to 
which Bleuler gave the name of " autistic thinking." 

The distinction of realistic and autistic thinking is 
one of degree rather than of kind. Those ideas that 
accord with current experience we consider as realistic 



52 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

thinking. Mental processes that do not accord with the 
world's experience we call autistic thinking. To-day we 
assign to the domain of autistic thinking many ideas, like 
the flatness of the earth, which were realistic thinking by 
the experience which past ages could apply to them. 
Such ideas we now see only in dreams, jokes, imagina- 
tion, or plainly illogical reasoning. They seemed to more 
primitive minds wholly consistent with the known facts 
of life. The hero of myth could escape by crawling 
under the horizon. But it is now only in jest that he 
can crawl through a hole and pull the hole through after 
him. 

The point to be made is, that prevailing ideas have 
been modified in evolution for the benefit of the indi- 
vidual, just as the external behavior-patterns have been 
modified. The modes of thought and inference used by 
the child or savage differ widely indeed from those of the 
cultured man of business or science. The latter does 
not think he can injure an enemy by injuring an image 
of him; the former does think so, and acts upon the be- 
lief. The savage can afford to believe that the earth is 
flat and that the sun is a disk traveling over it. The 
modern navigator can scarcely hold such ideas. If he 
should hold them, he must keep them in a " logic-tight 
compartment " away from his professional conduct. 
The child can afford to let his world of fancies be real 
to him, because his real needs of food and shelter are 
met for him by his parents. Thus a great many thoughts 
and notions exist in the childhood of the individual and 
of the race, which, as experience grows, fail to meet the 
greater demands of advancing culture, and must eventu- 
ally be discarded. 

If one were asked to name a distinguishing character- 



USE AND WASTE 53 

istic in the instinctive life of men and animals, one could 
scarcely do better than to say that men are distinguished 
by a characteristic instinct for conceptions of natural 
causes and effects. It is by furnishing these conceptions 
that the mind is useful in molding the world to our de- 
sires. Only through them are the more complex natural 
phenomena to be utilized by us. The instinct-trend for 
developing these conceptions is infinitely stronger than, 
and far outpaces, the influence of reason in keeping them 
correct. The great mass of folk-beliefs about natural 
phenomena are false ; 9 they arose in response to im- 
perious desire for some means of controlling these 
phenomena. The savage wishes to control the seasons; 
to send sickness to his enemy; to be successful in the 
hunt. Therefore, he needs and develops rigid ideas of 
the proper way to accomplish these things. The uniform 
falsity of these ideas seems to have no influence on their 
development, and only a very slight one on their per- 
sistence. There are today superstitions about wireless 
telegraphy that must have arisen since the apparatus was 
introduced. Magic is a name applied to certain primi- 
tive conceptions of natural causes and effects. Magical 
beliefs have arisen, not by way of scientific experiment, 
but, as above, by vague, irrelevant and chance associations 
of the ideas involved. Thus they are extremely likely 
to be false. They are among the most important pro- 
ducts of autistic modes of thought. Frazer points out 
that, as their unfitness begins to be perceived, they are 
first displaced by a religious appeal to the supernatural 
for the control of forces that men cannot command. 
Then, as experience grows, the false ideas of nature in 

9 For examples of usages arising from false inference, cf. Sumner, 
"Folkways" (1913), 24-25. 



54 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

magic are corrected in the name of science. 10 The re- 
interpretation of phenomena on a natural basis now re- 
places the appeal to the supernatural. 

The fundamental principle of autistic thinking is, 
that things are considered to be in the relations of 
identity, or of cause and effect, simply because they hap- 
pen to be associated together in the mind. From this we 
derive the conception of symbolism. A familiar form 
of autistic thinking attributes responsibility for an oc- 
currence to the nearest person involved in it. The an- 
cients considered the herald responsible for the news he 
brought, and executed him if he brought bad tidings. 
People today feel resentment toward the telephone oper- 
ator who tells them that the line is busy, and to a less 
degree toward the meteorologist who forecasts bad 
weather. In a further step toward reality, we jokingly 
chide the postman who has no letters for us. These cases 
show plainly the assignment of a cause on the basis of 
the primitive associative mechanism; that of temporal 
contiguity. More rationalized mechanisms of associ- 
ation are found in the ordeals : the fire will not burn the 
suspect if he is innocent; the water will not receive him 
if he is guilty; the just cause will triumph in combat. 

As we have seen, the whole doctrine of sympathetic 
magic exemplifies the autistic mode of thought. It does 
not fit any test of experience. Now, it is obviously less 
trouble, not to say safer, to hang an image of one's 
enemy than to go out and fight him. Thus, a very pow- 
erful factor in the preservation of autistic thinking is 
that of greater immediate ease. The importance of this 
greater immediate ease has grown with mental evolution. 

10 An essentially similar view is referred by McDougall, " Social 

Psychology" (1914), 317, to Stuart Glennie. 



USE AND WASTE 55 

It is easier to call your opponent names than to show 
the logical weaknesses of his theory, if indeed it has any. 
In civilized life, autistic modes df thought regularly 
occur because they are easier, when the easier way will 
do. The chief examples of autistic mental activity are 
now found in those passages of life in which the mind is 
not called upon for the direct meeting of some organic 
need. That is, they are found in wit, in dreams, in the 
child mind, in poetry. Whenever, as in these instances, 
one is freed from the limitations which logical, reasoned, 
experiential thinking imposes, the association of ideas 
can afford to proceed without strict accordance to logical 
principle. These modes of thought are also richly illus- 
trated in abnormal modes of thought corresponding to 
abnormal trends of conduct: such are the symptoms of 
mental disease. 

There is a familiar biological generalization that the 
individual represents in his development the development 
of the race. The child physically resembles his arboreal 
ancestor more than does the adult, and his mind is more 
like that of primitive man. Evidence is accumulating 
that the false ideas of mental disease also show features 
of reversion; that is, the patient makes special use of 
autistic mechanisms in his modes of thought, in his pro- 
cesses of reasoning, in'his criteria for deductions. There 
result ideas which are characteristic of former periods of 
race development. As an example, Jung cites a case 
of paranoid dementia praecox, who, despite a good educa- 
tion, reverts to the primitive belief that the earth is flat, 
and the sun a disk traveling over it. The extent and 
character of the parallel between pathological ideas and 
those of primitive development, dream-life, etc., is too 
large for suitable treatment in this volume. We shall 



56 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

here confine ourselves to studying a single, well-defined 
aspect of this parallel between autistic modes of thought 
in different mental processes. 

Of all associations, one of the most superficial, and 
least likely to be practically relevant, is the association 
between two ideas through their designation by a similar 
vocable. Thus, at least three different meanings attach 
to the sound representing the word bear, which have no 
logical relation to one another. The identification of 
ideas on the basis of the similarity or contiguity of their 
phonetic symbols (a pun) is one of the purest forms of 
autistic mental activity. We are to examine the forms 
of mental activity in which it occurs. 

Its most familiar appearance to us is that of punning. 
Here the play on words uses the sound of a word or some 
irrelevant feature of its meaning to convey unexpected 
ideas not in accord with reality. For example, it was 
easy for Washington to throw a dollar across the Po- 
tomac, who had thrown a sovereign across the Atlantic. 
The best known of these occur in the form of conun- 
drums. The telephone number of the Garden of Eden 
was 281 Apple (two ate one apple). By similar tokens 
we learn the difference between a shoemaker and a poet 
(makes shoes, shakes Muse) ; why no one need starve in 
the Arabian desert (because of the sandwiches [sand 
which is] there) ; together with the origin of the food 
supply (the children of Ham were bred and mustered 
there ; when Lot's wife was turned into a pillar of salt all 
the family but her ran down into the desert). Some- 
times the association is very remote, and established 
through many intermediaries, as the reason for the blind- 
ness of the wind, the steps being breeze, zephyr, yarn, 
tale, attachment, love, blind. 



USE AND WASTE 57 

While thought processes of this kind are many times 
multiplied in normal life, they are not accepted at their 
face value; the normal traveler in the desert does not 
equip his caravan with nothing to eat. Such a mechan- 
ism does not occur in the thought by which the individual 
lives. Any one who held telephonic conversations with 
the cradle of our race would rightly be regarded as patho- 
logical. One may still cross himself on breaking a 
mirror; one may refuse to sit one of thirteen at a table; 
one may knock on wood on announcement of a piece of 
good fortune; but play on words is play only, and who- 
ever develops the shadow of belief that " ef time was 
money, Ah'd be a millionaire," shall scarce escape, the 
mark of schizophrenia. 11 To base one's reasoning on 
such purely verbal or phonetic grounds, is the most 
abrupt transition from the healthy mind to the diseased 
one. The healthy mind shows scarcely anything like it ; 
with diseased minds it is fairly common. 

It is not wholly absent in normal minds. In the stu- 
pendous folkway material gathered in " The Golden 
Bough," scattered instances appear of usages apparently 
determined by certain similarities in the sound of words. 
The most striking example is the Malagasy prohibition of 
warriors from eating kidneys. For, " in the Malagasy 
language, the word for kidney is the same as that for 
shot; so shot he would certainly be if he ate a kidney." 
There are a number of cases in which names of common 
objects are tabu if they coincide with the names of cer- 
tain persons. " For example, if my father is called 
Njara (horse) I may not speak of him by that name; 
but in speaking of the animal I am free to use the word 

11 A term first applied by Bleuler to mental diseases in which there 
is, as it were, a schism of the mind against itself. Cf. ch. V, p. 197. 



58 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

horse (njara). But if my father-in-law is called Njara, 
the case is different, for then not only may I not refer 
to him by his name, but I may not even call a horse a 
horse; in speaking of the animal I must use some other 
word " (Alfoors of Poso, central Celebes). Among the 
Alfoors of Minahassa, northern Celebes, the custom is 
extended to forbid the use of words which simply re- 
semble the personal names in sound. If the father-in- 
law is called Kalala, his son-in-law may not speak of a 
horse by its common name, kawalo; he must call it a 
" riding beast." Cases are reported from the Zulus 
where common words were changed because they re- 
sembled the tabued names of chiefs. " The word for 
' lies ' or ' slander ' was changed from amacebo to 
amakwata, because amacebo contains a syllable of the 
name of the famous King Cetchwayo." In Madagascar, 
after the death of King Makka, the word laka (canoe) 
was replaced by Hounrama (Sakalava tribe). Similar 
usages prevail among the Malagasy above mentioned, 
and in Tahiti ; here, when a king Tu came to the throne, 
tia was substituted for tu in various words. (Frazer). 12 

Occasionally the dream makes a play on words similar to 
that of the pun. For example (private communication) : 

Dream: The governing body of a university con- 
siders a scheme for the prohibition of alcohol. Upon 
voting, it is found that every one, favoring license, is 
against the proposition. " Well, gentlemen/' remarks 
the presiding officer, " there doesn't seem to be a dry 
' Aye ' in the house.'' It would simply be carrying the 
" dream-work " a step further to represent the voters 
as indicating their disapproval by weeping. 

12 Cf. many analogous examples from the Qabala, cited by Moses, 
Path. A. Rel, 161-168. 



USE AND WASTE 59 

The "Nervus poculomotorius " quoted by Kraepelin 
is a similar example. This example (not felt as a joke) 
" is associated with the movement of the arm to lift the 
cup, the proper words being derailed by the similar sound- 
ing Nervus oculomotorius. Here belongs also the 
Frackekug cited by Vischer, where persons with burning 
coat tails (Frackschossen) pass in review" (Fackelzug, 
torchlight procession). 

A fairly frequent process in the language of dreams 
is that in which two or more ideas are combined by a 
fusion of certain of their phonetic elements. Kraepelin 
presents some excellent examples. 

Dream Form Meaning 

Psypen Psychische Typen 

Parringen Parricida u. Berlichingen 

Bellfleisch Das fur den Hund zurechtgeschnittene, 

von ihm in der Schiissel zuriickge- 
lassene Fleisch. 

Capriviera Politische Lage zur Zeit Caprivis 

Geheimkopeken Geheimpolizisten (Presumably a mediate as- 
sociation: Secret police, Russia, Kopek) 

Scolex Lateinisch fur " der Bucklige " 

Wiirzgrund Grund, der mit Wiirzburg in Beziehung 
steht. 

Some of these suggest the lapsus linguae of everyday 
life. Dreams of the writer's supply the following: 

Dream Form Apparent Elements 

(Name of steamship) Camennonia Cameronia, Pannonia 
(Name of mountain) Chickatoharie Chickataubut, Cana- 

joharie 

Dream : An ocean liner is aground, and two smaller ships 
are standing by. The names of these smaller ships are the 
Staria and the Hickmanite. (At the time, the writer saw 
much of the psychologist, Mr. Hickman, of Utah, who was 
making a study of certain aspects of Mormonism. The 



60 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

suffix ite is often associated with the naming of religious 
bodies. The connections of the word Star and the suffix ia 
with ocean transportation are obvious.) 

Another dream contains the repetition of a sentence 
in H. G. Wells' " War of the Worlds " : " He swung 
loose what must have been the camera of the Heat Ray." 
This becomes in the dream : " He swung loose what 
must have been his cang." The intruded elements are 
apparently taken from a neighboring phrase, " the clan- 
gorous din of the Martians.'' 

This process of denoting the combination of two ideas 
by an arbitrary fusion of their phonetic elements is met 
with also in normal speech, quite outside the domain of 
wit. It occurs every day in the formation of trade 
names (Natco, Nabisco, Delco, Socony, Clupeco, 13 etc.) 
Meteorologists have designated a combination of smoke 
and fog by the neologism smog, on the model of the 
slithy, mome, and wabe of the Jabberwock. No fol- 
lower of baseball disputed the temporary value of such 
condensations as Brookfed, Newfed, Chljed, to denote 
members of the Brooklyn, Newark and Chicago Federal 
Leagues. 

Many cases of mental disease show ideas closely cor- 
responding to those of the Malagasy whose warriors may 
not eat kidneys for fear of being " shot." Such mental 
processes are in pathological cases the source of, or ac- 
cepted as the rationalizations of, delusional ideas. A 
Unitarian is a " unit of the Aryan race " ; just as in 
dream life a Wiirzgrund is a reason connected with 
Wurzburg, or in real life a Chi fed was a member 

13 Designating, respectively, products of the National Hollow Tile 
'Co., National Biscuit Co., Dayton Electric Co., Standard Oil Co. of 
New York, Cluett, Peabody and Co. 



USE AND WASTE 61 

of the Chicago Federal League. The psychotic material 
to be here cited seems confined to the dementia praecox 
group; similar processes have, however, been reported in 
the psychoneuroses. It is also true that the manic- 
depressive excitements are noteworthy for their sound- 
associations, though delusions are not readily based upon 
them; hardly at all save in marked confusion. The de- 
mentia praecox cases, here as usual, are distinguished by 
the absence of confusion. Such a dementia praecox case, 
S, tells us: 

That he had been confirmed and a certificate filled in by 
Mr. X ; that in filling in the certificate the name was changed, 
and Mr. X wrote his name Catterer. He says that he seated 
himself on a stool, No. 10, and he got the te in ten, that 
Catterer was C-a-t, cat, t-e-r-e-r, and he says all this refers 
to his condition, calling him a cat . . . The word communi- 
cation, i-cat-on; commission has the i without the cat. It 
means that he cannot conscientiously go on the commis- 
sion. ..." The critical point came when I was accused of 
being a cat. The newspapers tried to advertise me as a 
notorious evil liver. Used the word ' Krazy Kat/ . . . All 
such signs K, H, E, L, F, are symbols of mediaeval days. 
Letters like M, P, H, K, I have to look up and see what 
the symbols stand for." (Is it a system?) "Yes, and in 
my case they are being used right along. I have only to 
mention ' Pall Mall ' . . . All who recognize Greenwich as 
the meridian accept the Anglican Church as supreme. 
Therefore Pall Mall . . . P-all M-all . . . P may mean 
posterior, meaning we all accept the Greenwich meridian. 
M has a V connecting the two horizontal (sic) lines, that 
would mean ' connecting link,' meaning this fellow is all 
right, so that when M is written that way it is compli- 
mentary." 

(About four months later.) The patient describes with 
the minutest detail how he interprets the individual letters of 
a word or a special combination of letters and words which 
he reads or hears spoken as being signs and code messages. 
In a similar way he refers to a slight change in a communion 
service, in which the minister made certain remarks, and to 



62 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

his going to the Public Library, the latter word being divided 
in such a way as to have reference to his affairs. 

Case P showed, among other features of note, a few 
processes of this character, as the writing subjoined: 

Cf. Revelation, chap. 13, verse 18. 
Six hundred three score six 
6 6 6 

V V v 

veni vidi vici 

Julius Caesar (patient identified himself for a 

time with this personage) 
Pontifex Maximus of Rome 
absolviren 

x 
absolviren 

x 

When next seen the patient was questioned about the 
sketch, but did not elaborate upon it in any special way. 
The only motive he gave for the selection of Absolviren was 
that it was a word of ten letters and it was the only word of 
that kind which he knew. He was asked why he might not 
use another word of ten letters like Epicanthus, of which 
the sixth letter is not v. He seemed interested in knowing 
that there was such a word, said laughingly that he supposed 
that would suggest Nero III, though he did not have in mind 
any historical personage of this title. 

Here the ideas we are concerned with are not so firmly 
held as in the other cases, and there is more tendency to 
regard some of them facetiously; thus, from another 
writing, " iugurn est iughwi" (my yoke is a joke). 
From a letter: 

. . . Becker is the reincarnation of Thomas von Beckett 
the martyr to the cause of a square deal for innocent blood, 
and the injustice of so-called English justice. He is also 
the reincarnation of the corpse whom the gunmen let down 
through the roof on Sunday, whom Christ restored to 
life . . , 



USE AND WASTE 63 

The similarity of names does not however play an 
essential role in these reincarnations; for the patient 
identifies himself with the personages of the Trinity 
(more especially with Christ and the Holy Ghost), an- 
other patient with Noah, where the names have no simi- 
larity, as well as the writer with Nathaniel of the New 
Testament, but also with Nathan Hale, addressing letters 
to him under this name. From another letter : 

And out of his mouth went a sharp, two-edged sword. 
The abbreviation, Penna. for Pennsylvania, means " wing " 
in Sanskrit, and " quill " in Greek. It is probably the two- 
edged sword referred to. 

Following are wordplays from another case whose de- 
lusional content (that we cannot go into here) presents 
remarkable parallels to that of P : 

Ho-spit-al . . . Ho means Hallo, spit-all, because all 
here spit the devil out of them, the spit means just to throw 
it off. 

William . . . Will-I-am. Every person bearing this 
name contains a portion of the " direct will of God." 

Buonaparte, i.e., born apart. (Patient identified himself 
in part with this personage.) 

In the richness and fixity of such ideas, the following 
case F can seldom have been surpassed, and calls for 
presentation in some detail. It is one of a small group of 
individuals with inferior mental constitutions, who are 
insignificant parts of the vast system of haute -finance, 
over which they have no control, and in which they feel 
no share, but develop a dementing psychosis in which 
the " economic complex " has a special role in the picture. 

The patient is described as having always been odd, and 
never " confiding " in any one. Would leave the room when 
it was entered by his younger brother, who was making 
more of a success in life. Held positions at various occupa- 



64, MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

tions but did not keep them, the last one being for three 
years as stenographer with a financial house, at $12 per 
week. He left this position " because he felt he was not 
treated right " about six years before admission, since when 
he has not worked. At the time of admission he was 33 
years of age. 

Subjoined is a sketch by the patient with notes from his 
explanation of it : 







Figure i 

There are two a's in Japan and Hawaii, indicating that 
Japan is entitled to a share in Hawaii. Further evidences 
of this are the sacred pines of Japan, while the chief product 
of Hawaii is pineapples. This share is one-sixth; because 
it is now the 30th day of the 5th month, and 5 goes into 30 
six times. Japan to-day owns one half of Hawaii, but she is 
to lose a third, i.e., two-sixths. She holds it by session; 
lots are to be drawn by position to secure an equitable pro- 
portion of holdings. 

. . . His ideas he derives from his " mind's talking to 
him." . . . This does not have tone quality, comes merely as 
thoughts. . . . He told of a " tip " he had received regard- 
ing the rates of return that different classes of people were 
to receive for their labor; that the lower classes were to 



USE AND WASTE 65 

receive 3% for their share, the upper classes 5%. 3 is to 
the left of 5 in the number 35, indicating the inferiority of 
those who share at this rate. He had seen the figure 35 
in a paper, and this special idea attached itself to it. Pick- 
ing up another newspaper that happened to be lying near, he 
said, " Let's see if I can't find something to show it here — 
there's a 3, and a 5," picking them out from different por- 
tions of the sheet. It was called to his attention that the 
figure 53 occurred thereon, in reverse order from what his 
scheme demanded. " Yes, but that doesn't mean anything 
to me." He turned the leaves and came to an advertisement 
where on the left side of the page something was quoted at 
35 cents, and something on the right side of the page at 55 
cents, calling attention to this as double evidence for the 
validity of his idea. Another " tip," which he did not 
know whether workmen would make use of, would be very 
valuable to them if they did, because it would enable them 
to summarily get rid of any " super " (superior, superin- 
tendent), who treated them unjustly or persecuted them. 
This went on all the time, he said, and when asked to illus- 
trate, told of how a " super " might come up to some 
" suitor " (employee) and tell him " that was no kind of 
work he was doing," and that he was no good. (The pre- 
cise nature of the "tip" was not obtained.) There is to 
be a square deal in the distribution of business all over the 
world, in regard to which he had received a " tip " that he 
should take away one-third of all the shoe business from 
South Australia. A half of this third, i.e., one-sixth, he is 
to give to Salem, Mass., to compensate it for its loss of 
standing to its rivals, as Lowell and Lawrence. The other 
half he is to give to Elmira, N. Y., which stands in near 
relation to Salem, having four of its letters, e, I, m, perhaps 
also a, the same. Asked about the ir, he dismissed the ques- 
tion with a simple " That doesn't impress me." This " de- 
preciation "of South Australia's shoe industry is not to take 
effect until the 7th day of the 6th month, hence %. Pos- 
sibly only one-sixth of the shoe business will be taken away, 
in which case Salem and Elmira would only receive % 2 > 
but to compensate them will have an extra share in the 
rubber cloth business. Nor is Australia entitled to the use 
of the term Queensland, there being also a Queenstown in 
England ; it is therefore to be changed to something else. 
6 



66 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Again, the bees are hostile to mankind, and sting us, be- 
cause we insult them in speaking of their dwellings as hives, 
the name of a disagreeable skin affection ; we should call 
them homes, or rather hones, because bees produce honey, 
according to the following sketch : 








4 




«« 



Figure 2 



Beeswax should be employed for noble purposes only, 
and not for such lowly uses as polishing floors ; because, in 
thus walking on the products of their labor, we " walk on," 
i.e., show disrespect to, the bees. . . . 

As he was writing a sketch on Japan one morning, he 
was watching the shadows about a tree in the yard; sud- 
denly these shadows began to move rapidly, in a way that 
his mind suggested to him was crab-like. The fact that he 
should see the symbol of a crab, while writing a sketch on 
Japan, suggested the export of tinned crab-meat from 
Japan ; that the Japanese have a great deal to do with crabs. 
Crabs perform an important part in the reproductive func- 
tions of fish, for, when the fish have laid their eggs, it is 
the crabs that carry to them the fertilizing element ; without 
crabs, no reproduction of fish would be practicable. When 
reminded that fish often are propagated under conditions 
where crabs are excluded, as in aquaria and hatcheries, he 
refused to believe it was by any natural method, saying that 



USE AND WASTE 67 

the keepers of such institutions had their own secrets, and 
might be able to accomplish it in some special way. Asked 
if any like intermediary were concerned in the propagation 
of the human race, he said, " Well, I've had them on me," 
and went on to tell at length of how he had caught crabs; 
and had cured himself with " blue butter " (a mercurial 
ointment) ; how they were about the size of a cross section 
of spaghetti, and white, the color of human flesh, which 
they might be made of. While he gave no exact formula- 
tion of their role in human reproduction, he said quite 
plainly that he thought they had " something to do with it." 

The fact that these two arthropods are entirely different 
in species and nature is irrelevant ; enough, that they are 
designated by the same vocable, that they have corre- 
sponding symbioses with fish and men. The guess may 
be hazarded that the latter-expressed idea is psycho- 
genetically the earlier one. From other observations it 
is apparent that the patient is also acquainted with the 
actual nature of sexual relationships, the above itself 
being constructive testimony to this. 

Apropos of nothing, he asked the examiner what he 
thought of the guilt of Tucker, executed for the murder of 
Mabel Page. He himself seemed to have considerable 
doubt as to whether Tucker merited his end, which he 
rationalized as follows: If one spells out the name of 
Tucker, the first letter is T. This is symbolic of China, 
whose principal export is " T." This indicates that Tucker 
was composed, " a big sixth of him," according to the first 
capital letter of his name, of " Chinese corpuscles," i.e., that 
he had much of the Chinese character in him. But the 
Chinese are characterized by conscientiousness and so 
Tucker, having so strong an element of this quality in him, 
would not be likely to be guilty of the act for which he 
suffered, unless, indeed, the other letters of his name should 
offset the good influence of the first one. R represents 
riches, money, a " driving principle," that might operate 
for evil. E is for English, French Protestantism, i. e., 
bigotry or narrowmindedness. K he brought into conneo 



68 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

tion with uck, Kentucky, hot Southern blood, passion. C, 
on the other hand, represents Christiania, conscience, con- 
scientiousness, a good influence. 

The mental process in instances like the above might 
be described as an " over-identification " of language 
symbols with the things they represent. For example, 
the idea of debasement becomes so closely identified with 
" walk on," that wherever a process denoted by " walk 
on " occurs, it carries with it this idea of debasement. In 
Will-i-am, the language symbol of will is so over identi- 
fied with the process of volition, that, when the symbol 
occurs in a common name, this name carries with it 
special powers of volition. (Compare the phrase," — is 
my middle name.") As stated above, such false identi- 
fications are characteristic of primitive and pathological 
autism. 14 Further aspects of it will be considered in 
the next chapter. 

In closing let us briefly consider the relation of these 
data to our fundamental conceptions. What is the rela- 
tion of autistic mechanisms to the use and waste of 
mental energy? How do these mechanisms compare 
with realistic thinking in their significance for adapta- 
tion to life? 

" The prime function of autism," remarks Bleuler, 
who originates the conception, " isjwi^h-fulfillment." 
The value of autistic thinking for this purpose lies in 
the facility with which, freed from the bounds of reason, 
it can afford the pleasures of mental wish- fulfillment. 
This generalization applies most clearly to the patho- 
logical field. It is illustrated in the present pathological 
material. By the arbitrary association of certain pho- 

14 Good parallels could be found in some of the astrological argu- 
ments, particularly in the dream-book type of perversions. 



USE AND WASTE 69 

netic similarities, P and F are able satisfactorily to 
rationalize the ideas of their supreme importance to the 
world's affairs. S makes them confirm his persecutory 
ideas. 

In the folklore material the wish-fulfillment does not 
appear on the surface. We do not understand why the 
Malagasy warrior should want to avoid kidneys. The 
" shot " idea may be a rationalization of some other 
cause for avoiding them, but we do not know what it is. 
The modern warrior is symbolically " shot " to make him 
less fearful of bullets. 

In all these cases the autistic mechanism of phonetic 
association opposes adaptation to life. It helps to de- 
prive the Malagasy warrior of a useful article of food, 
to keep the natives of Celebes word-hunting when they 
might be head-hunting, to support the most absurd bio- 
logical and economic notions in the realm of mental 
pathology. 

Yet this is a one-sided view of a small part of the 
field. These phonetic associations have still a humble 
role of social usefulness in the sphere of wit. The es- 
sential thing is that we do not use a mental mechanism 
suited merely for purposes of wit, as a guide to important 
actions in life. The proper regulation of our thinking 
demands that the merely mental satisfactions be not ob- 
tained at the sacrifice of deeper organic needs. Autistic 
modes of thinking hardly belong in the chase, in the tilling 
of the soil, in the conduct of commerce, industry and 
warfare. Autistic modes of thinking have controlled 
and hampered them among barbarous races. Enlight- 
ened communities bring all these activities more and more 
under the wisdom of experience. Autistic modes of 
thinking belong in the creations of music, of painting, 



70 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

of poetry, of imaginative literature of all sorts. Nearly 
all advertising makes use of them. They will always 
govern the realms of fantasy and of wit. Religion could 
not exist without them. And in the field of knowledge, 
truth becomes known by means which are not logical, 
and is confirmed as realistic thinking by its ability to 
meet the test of experience. New truth may come to 
light through autistic modes of thought (." intuition "), 
precisely because autistic thinking is not bound by or 
subject to our incomplete experience of the past. Truth 
does not depend wholly on logical discovery. The Mis- 
sourian does not excel the man who can see things with- 
out being " shown." Thus the role of autistic thinking 
is often salutary as well as important. We know that 
" dirt " is only " matter out of place," and the mental 
refuse of pathological autism is only " thought out of 
place." Mental evolution can very well be formulated in 
terms of adjusting the realistic and autistic modes of 
thought to their rightful spheres. 

One might sum it all up by saying that realistic think- 
ing contributes mainly to making it possible to exist, and 
autistic thinking to making it worth while to live. 



CHAPTER III 

SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 

The sign 3 is the symbol for the weight of an ounce, 
and represents the real ounce. We do not demand any 
logical connection between the particular symbol and the 
weight. We can at once accept it as standing for the 
weight as a useful, if arbitrary, symbol. The letters 
o-u-n-c-e are just as much a symbol for the weight as is 
the sign §. M is a symbol for meter in measures of 
length, and the letters m-e-t-e-r are in turn symbolic — ar- 
bitrarily or " conventionally " — of the length of a certain 
rod which is kept in Paris. A thing is a symbol of some- 
thing else, when for some convenient purpose, it is identi- 
fied with, used identically with, that something else. A 
greenback is symbolic of metal in the treasury, and can be 
identified with the metal for the purpose of buying some- 
thing. But it would be an unsound procedure to carry 
the identification so far as to try to plate another piece of 
metal with the greenback; or to revert to the case cited 
in the preceding chapter, T properly symbolizes the begin- 
ning of the name Tucker, but not a country whose prin- 
cipal export is tea. Such are useful and wasteful, 
normal and pathological symbolisms. The tendency 
toward symbolism, and toward certain types of it, is 
one of the distinctive manifestations of " autistic think- 
Jog." 

Most of our intellectual life is carried on by means of 

71 



7* MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

symbols. Dean Swift suggested what existence would 
be without them : 

At the grand academy of Lagado, in the country of 
Laputa, there was a project, " that since words are only 
names of things, it would be more convenient for all men to 
carry about with them such things as are necessary to ex- 
press the particular business they are to discourse on . . . 
which has only this inconvenience, that if a man's business 
be very great ... he must be obliged in proportion to carry 
a greater bundle of things upon his back ... I have often 
beheld two of these sages almost sinking under the weight 
of their packs . . . who when they met in the street would 
lay down their loads, open their sacks, and hold conversation 
for an hour together; then put up their implements, help 
each other resume their burdens, and take their leave." 

The use of language, replacing any such cumbrous 
means of conveying ideas, is the most important function 
of symbolism. Nothing can have contributed more to 
mental evolution than the exchange and cross- fertiliza- 
tion of ideas which the symbols of language make possi- 
ble. Words are the coins which symbolize ideas, just 
as money denotes values. 1 A short discussion of the 
range of symbolism in language, where its service is 
plainest, will help to follow its course through other, 
sometimes less open, fields to be explored. 

The origin of language-symbols is to be found in 
psychology and not in philology; just as concepts of the 
origin of life belong to biology rather than to paleon- 
tology. Although the question has been considered 
mainly by philologists, the consideration has always been 
from a psychological standpoint. Three principal 
origins of language have been postulated: 

First, that the names given to objects may have been 
derived from sounds naturally associated with them, espe- 
x See Sumner, "Folkways," 179. 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 73 

daily sounds produced by the objects named. (Ono- 
matopoeia, u Bowwow " theory.) The names of birds 
and insects often show this origin : chickadee, whippoor- 
will, katydid, cricket, etc. It is possible that the sound 
association need not be so constant and direct as in the 
above cases. Occasional and even chance associations of 
some sound with an object or phenomenon might give 
rise to a name, thus greatly extending the application of 
this theory. 

Second, certain affective reactions provoke motor re- 
sponses through the vocal organs. ("Pooh-pooh" 
theory.) Interjections still preserve this primitive 
mechanism; but words of this origin are now but rarely 
to be traced in the living grammatical structure of the 
language. 

A third mechanism, which is more hypothetical than 
the other two, supposes some association between the ob- 
ject and a definite vocal response, though the two have 
not been experienced in direct association. That is, just 
as the knee jerks on tapping the kneecap, without its ever 
having been tapped before, so there might be a vocal 
response which would give a name to an object, though 
the vocable and object had not been experienced together. 
(" Ding-dong " theory.) A negative argument for this 
theory is that there are many objects and phenomena 
whose associations with any sound are not frequent 
enough or characteristic enough to give rise to a name. 
A positive reason for the theory is that in the language 
of children, neologisms sometimes occur, with perfectly 
distinct meanings. These meanings have no traceable 
sound-association with their object; e. g., a child calls the 
little whip holder on the side of a buggy a conger. 

Above all one must not suppose that language arose 



74 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

by any special act of creation which no longer operates. 
All the mental processes by which language originated 
are still operative. New language is daily being created 
by the same associative processes through which the first 
words arose. 

Once a fair number of words were thus established, 
the formation of compounds would begin, parts of speech 
would develop, and the processes of agglutination, inflec- 
tion, etc., would develop in due course. Upon this phase 
of the subject, comparative philology sheds abundant 
light. 

In sum, ideas come to have names, i. e. develop lan- 
guage-symbols, through association of vocal sounds with 
them. The problem of the origin of language is to de- 
termine the nature of such associations. They may have 
been of several kinds. The " bowwow," " pooh-pooh," 
and " ding-dong " theories are not to be considered as 
mutually exclusive. This elementary process, by which 
an idea derives a name, or vocal symbol, through a sound 
especially associated with it, we may call a primary lin- 
guistic symbolism. It is the essential symbolism of all 
speech. 

Obviously it would happen that two ideas, one or both 
of which already have a name, are associated together 
I with a special intimacy ; e. g., the kettle and the water 
[which it contains. By the same process the idea kettle 
often replaces in speech the water it contains, and we 
say, " the kettle boils." The word kettle has become a 
symbol for the water in the kettle. Later we shall see 
that other figures of speech are forms of such symbolism. 
These cases in which the symbol is derived from a word 
already possessing a meaning form a secondary variety of 
linguistic symbolism. 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 75 

The pronouns, a pervasive development in language, have 
a special position. They are symbols whose meanings are 
not fixed; what they symbolize is determined entirely by 
their context. They are short vocables, and make for econ- 
omy, at least in speaking effort. The saving of mental 
energy must, however, be their more important function. 
If one says Charles went home, the word Charles brings up 
many associations connected with the person of Charles 
which are irrelevant to the central fact of his going home. 
If one says he went home, it being evident that Charles is 
meant, these irrelevant associations are more remote, and 
the central fact of his going home is allowed to stand out 
more clearly. The raison d'etre of the pronoun is that it 
saves a number of irrelevant associations which would dis- 
turb the perception of the central idea. No similar develop- 
ment seems to have occurred with " pro-verbs," though in 
the English language, this service is partly performed by the 
phrase, to do so. 

It appears that any process of association may cause 
one thing to be used as a symbol of another. Every 
f law of association " is also a principle of symbol- 
ism. 

The simplest symbolic associations are those by simi- 
larity in sound, already discussed from another angle. 
Those familiar with baseball will recall the elaborations 
of "foul" — "fowl." Fit as a fiddle is another com- 
mon instance of this kind of association and symbolism ; 
the fiddle has no special title to fitness other than its 
sound. Another sound association, of a less direct type, 
is the use of the word squealer to designate one who be- 
trays his companions. An accepted source of the squeal 
is the pig; thus, in the underworld, squealer becomes 
further symbolized to pig's head. Another term for such 
a traitor is pipe; perhaps simply as a conveyor, or be- 
cause, in music, a pipe-like instrument may emit a squeal. 
The symbolic fate of the squealer is then to be put under 



76 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

the sink with the rest of the pipes, i. e., to pass out of 
sight. 

Words thus come to have, not only their primary mean- 
ings, but other meanings which happen to be associated 
with the primary ones. The word head means a part of 
the body, the chief of a group, a topic. The original 
significance of the word may be lost; many etymological 
descendants of caput have no reference to the head that 
rests on shoulders. A complete list of instances would 
form a large collection ; many may be gathered from any 
discussion of so-called " semantic change." Interesting 
is the following citation (from Jung) of various mean- 
ings, all of which are distinctly associated, for the San- 
skrit word tejas: 

I. Sharpness, edge. 2. Fire, brightness, light, glow, heat. 
3. Healthy appearance, beauty. 4. The fiery and pigment- 
producing power in the human organism (believed to reside 
in the bile). 5. Strength, energy, vital force. 6. Violence. 

7. Spiritual, also magic, power, influence, good appearance, 
dignity. 8. Semen. 2 

We speak of certain meanings of words as literal, and 
other meanings as figurative. Thus head as a part of 

2 A fuller list from Apte's Dictionary (1890) is as follows: 

1. Sharpness. 2. The sharp edge (of a knife, etc.). 3. The point 

or top of a flame. 4. Heat, glow, glare. 5. Luster, glow, brilliance, 

splendor. 6. Heat or light, considered as the third of the five elements 

of creation. 7. The bright appearance of the human body, beauty, 

8. Fire of energy. 9. Might, power, strength, valor, martial or heroic 
luster. 10. One possessed of heroic luster. 11. Spirit, energy. 12. 
Strength of character, not bearing insult or ill treatment with im- 
punity. 13. Majestic luster, majesty, dignity, authority, consequence. 
14. Semen, seed, semen virile. 15. The essential nature of anything. 
16. Essence, quintessence. 17. Spiritual, moral, or magical power. 
18. Fire. 19. Marrow. 20. Bile. 21. The speed of a horse. 22. 
Fresh butter. 23. Gold. 24. Clearness of the eyes. 25. A shiny or 
luminous body, light. 26. The heating and strengthening faculty of 
the human frame seated in the bile. 27. The brain. 28. Violence, 
fierceness. 29. Impatience. (For this material I am indebted to Pro- 
fessor Jackson, of Columbia University.) 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 77 

the body is used in its literal sense; as chief of a group, 
in a figurative sense. The literal sense is analogous to 
the primary symbolism; the figurative sense to the sec- 
ondary symbolism. 

Examples from Hill's Rhetoric are: 
Literal Association Figurative Association 

mirror reflect mind 

river source information 

bird flight fancy 

The simile and the metaphor are bald statements of 
symbolisms based on associations by similarity. A pro- 
fusion of instances of symbolisms may be taken from 
current slang: Up a tree, out on the edge of a limb, 
buffaloed, live wire, pinched, beggar, perisher, etc. The 
varieties of metonymy and synecdoche show similar cor- 
respondence with associative mechanisms. Thus the re- 
lations, part-whole, genus-species, cause-effect, not only 
exemplify figures of speech, but are categories which 
appear prominently in experimental studies of the associ- 
ative processes. The figures of speech correspond to 
secondary varieties of linguistic symbolism. They are 
interesting in showing the many forms of association 
through which symbols are established. 

We need not pursue further this review of the possible 
relations between the symbol and its object. So far as 
can be seen, the association does not have to be of any 
particular type. Any two things which are associated in 
the mind may become symbols, one of the other. It may 
be through an association by contiguity, similarity, part- 
whole, genus-species, or what not. This appears true 
both of language symbols, and of other symbols to be 
discussed, such as those derived from sympathetic magic 
and dreams. 



78 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

In order that a symbolism may be established, there 
must first be an association of some kind. But all things 
associated do not form symbols. In addition to this 
underlying condition of symbolism, there must be 
dynamic factors or motives of symbolism — a mental 
gain resulting from it. 

The rhetorician explains that symbolism effects a men- 
tal economy, that we are stimulated and pleased to follow 
the skillful tracery of these various kinds of association. 
This seems to explain sufficiently why figures of speech 
occur as above. But the tendency to form symbols seems 
also to affect special classes of ideas; or rather ideas 
which have special significance to the person who holds 
them. Illustrations are found in linguistic symbols, be- 
cause the same principles operate in symbolism generally 
as in the symbols of language. 

The prime condition favoring the formation of sym- 
bols in language and other mental products is that the 
idea shall have more than the average interest for the 
person. Classes of ideas which are of general human 
interest, like religion and love, have filled the world with 
their symbols. Specific words (resp. ideas) that fall into 
some category of general interest, and are frequently 
employed, show marked tendency to take on symbolic 
forms. The dollar, for example, appears as plunk, bone, 
buck, piece of lettuce, simoleon, iron man, etc. Perhaps 
the usual word brings up a disagreeable feeling of trite- 
ness which is avoided by the use of some more novel 
association. The genial hero of Mutt and Jeff would 
have reformed altogether rather than have wagered mere 
dollars on the race track. He dealt in pesos, great big 
round ones, seeds, pieces of the monetary unit, joy- 
getters. 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 

The same feeling of triteness, or, perhaps, " desire to 
astonish " with an unexpected and individual expression, 
brings about a number of slang terms for articles of 
food, e. g., hot dog (Frankfurter sausage), pair of white 
wings wid de sunny side up (poached eggs), cannibal 
sandwich (beefsteak tartare), three diamond studs (por- 
tion of Hamburger steak). 

Again, words expressing unpleasant ideas are particu- 
larly apt to find symbolic equivalents. Bereaved per- 
sons frequently do not say that their lost one died, but 
that he went away. Fell asleep is often used with the 
same meaning. To go out is an equivalent used espe- 
cially by attendants on the sick. The fact that death may 
not be wholly unpleasant either to the subject or the 
survivors is reflected in the note of humor carried by 
some of its symbolic equivalents, like passed in his checks, 
or the German abgekratzt. 

The anciently recognized and familiar stars are still 
symbolized by personifying names; others are identified 
by number only. In general, if there is a group whose 
members are to be identified, symbolic names are used 
where there is marked individuality ; otherwise, numbers. 
A country estate may well have a special name; less fre- 
quently the city house. When locomotives were a more 
distinctive feature in human life, they had special names; 
now they have only numbers. Merchant vessels and 
large men-of-war regularly have names ; scows, tugs, and 
torpedo craft are frequently numbered. American sub- 
marines used to have names, but are now known by 
letter and number. 

Interest (whether positive or negative) and distinction 
in the main determine what associations shall develop 
into symbolisms. Words denoting ideas of interest and 



^ MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

distinction have the greater tendency to be replaced by 
symbolic equivalents. 

The use of a symbol may be to express the fact of 
distinction. A thing which stands out prominently calls 
for a special symbol in language to identify it. Such 
are the great stars, steamships, mountains, and the early 
locomotives. Again, the application of a symbol may 
be to create distinction where it does not sufficiently 
exist. To this class belong others of the examples 
quoted, like those for hotels, or for some kinds of food. 
The trade name is an effort to provide distinction for an 
article by giving it a novel identifying symbol. A 
Trilby sandwich is made out of a " Frankfurter," a roll, 
and a bit of mustard pickle. Symbols are thus used on 
the one hand to express distinction, on the other hand to 
confer it. 

Positive interest, or attraction, and negative interest, 
or repulsion, each induce the formation of symbols, but 
in opposite ways. The lover sees his passion reflected in 
everything from the wooing of doves to the courses of 
complementary stars. Every idea which comes into sym- 
bolic association w T ith his love becomes of itself pleasant 
for him to contemplate. Thus he clings to the pleasant 
thought of love and permits it to enter into all kinds of as- 
sociations. Through positive interest he makes a world 
of erotic symbols to magnify and extend the pleasantness 
of the original idea. Great positive interest also magnifies 
the desire for distinction. The combined role of the two 
factors in giving rise to symbols is well shown in the 
many half -technical, half-slang equivalents for baseball 
topics. 

Symbolism arising from negative interest, on the other 
hand, uses the symbol as a means of escape from an un- 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 81 

pleasant original idea. Speech disguises many facts of 
life which are felt to be unpleasant, by euphemisms. A 
euphemism is not necessarily symbolic. If we say of 
a deceased person, he ceased to live, that is circumlocu- 
tion only, because it expresses exactly the same fact, only 
in a less direct way. It is a simple euphemism. If on 
the other hand we say, as above, he went away, the ordi- 
nary meaning of this is something different from he died, 
and we may call this a symbolic euphemism. Simple 
euphemism states the same fact, but in a more delicate 
way; symbolic euphemism uses words which ordinarily 
convey a different meaning of some sort. 

Symbolism arising from negative interest is obviously 
not intended to make the unpleasant ideas any plainer 
or more distinctive ; it is rather to disguise them or make 
them vaguer. Thus we can understand how it is that 
the process pervading nearly all linguistic symbolism of 
this kind is one of further generalising the idea to be con- 
veyed. In experiments on the associative process, the 
corresponding class of associations is called supra-ordi- 
nates. That is, the response animal to the stimulus 
word sheep would be a supra-ordinate association. It has 
been regarded as showing an inferior adaptation to the 
experiment. However, we are under no necessity of call- 
ing a sheep an animal in language, because there is noth- 
ing repulsive to us about a sheep; but a bedbug is al- 
luded to simply as a bug. 3 Where, on the other hand, 
a positive interest applies, the insect is sometimes parti- 
cularized as Virginia creeper. Any ideas that are thus 

3 In a southern district the word bull is tabu, and must be replaced 
by male brute. Generalization may be seen where there is no tabu, 
like the sack, bag, stick of baseball. But where there is a tabu, gen- 
eralizing symbols are the rule. Sowing wild oats is one of the few 
exceptions. 

7 



82 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

at once interesting and more or less under tabu are 
apt to develop two classes of symbols in modern speech. 
One represents the yielding to the tabu, and giving the 
idea a vaguer symbol. Thus if a person is dismissed 
from employment we say that he left his position. The 
other class represents rather a defiance of the tabu. By 
this token it is said of the former employee that he got 
through, got the sack, got the g. b. This type of sym- 
bolism is especially apt to have a humorous coloring. 4 

If a person is drunk we describe him by generalizing 
symbols as intoxicated, or under the influence of liquor. 
On the other hand, alcoholism is quite apt to give rise to 
humorous and contemptuous interest. An especially full 
collection of the symbols thus arising has been published 
by Partridge. They are interesting here, to show the 
variety of associative processes through which symbolism 
may establish itself. Some of them are: 

A passenger in the clear ^ glorified 

Cape Ann Stage disguised in a difficulty 

artificial down with the barrel loaded for bears 

at rest fever making m's and 

been lappingthe gutter drunk as a drum, fish, w's 

been in the sun fly, mouse, owl, rat, on the nipple 

been taking tea sow rococo 

brick in the hat edge on society slant on 

canonized (shot) electrified starchy 

feels his oats stewed 
whittled 

Among the considerable number of neologisms are the 
following : 



buffy 


iskimmish 


smeekit 


coxy-loxy 


kisky 


smoled 


cronk 


nazie 


stropolus 


fogmatic 


obfusticated 


transmogrified 


groatable 







4 " Everything which breaks over the social taboo is funny." Sum- 
ner, " Folkways," 573. 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 83 

Very few of these would be widely understood, be- 
cause the interest that gives rise to them is largely in- 
cidental. The tabu on alcoholism is comparatively weak, 
not strong enough to give rise to many generalizing sym- 
bols such as liquor or strong drink. The tabu is much 
more intense, and the positive interest greater and more 
universal in the field of sexuality. Its ideas are ever 
present to humanity and are of the intensest concern. 
The interest is both positive and negative, for both pleas- 
ant and unpleasant affects of great strength are associ- 
ated with it. Hence we find both the generalizing and 
the particularizing types of symbols in wide variety. All 
the important motives of symbolism are present. These 
generalizing symbols are a part of the sex tabu : 

bad immoral 

bad disease lamb's fries 

blood disease (to) lie with 

delicate condition manhood 

diseases peculiar to men member 

dread malady organ 

dress yourself (on which side) privates 

family way safe (-ty) 

(to) force self-abuse 

go with women self-pollution 

grave charges unusual charges 

A small number of jokes are founded on the theme of 
a vague or unfamiliar word being mistakenly interpreted 
in a sexual sense by the hearer. 

Under many conditions, as among ordinary men inti- 
mately acquainted, the tabu is practically lifted so far as 
language is concerned. Then, as with the terms for 
alcoholism, motives of interest and distinction carry the 
symbols for sexual ideas almost to the limits of associ- 
ative capacity. On the other hand, the tabu upon these is 



84 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

particularly intense in " polite " society. There is in the 
recognized English language no transitive verb denoting 
sexual intercourse between willing persons. Under the 
tabu there are three, commonly understood and regularly 
employed. There are about nine such commonly under- 
stood words for the male organ, but not more than three 
or four for the female. As in the alcohol symbolisms, 
the number in occasional use is indefinite. Neologisms 
and proper names are frequently employed as designa- 
tions. As in Partridge's list for alcoholism, most of the 
words have a different literal meaning which is not under 
tabu, thus belonging to the class we have called " sec- 
ondary symbols " for the thing denoted. One of these is 
in some districts used to designate the male organ and in 
others the female. 

Among uncultivated peoples, language tabu markedly 
affects many other ideas. One may see the same gen- 
eralizing, supra-ordinate mechanism at work. Under the 
conditions in which the tabu is operative, smallpox be- 
comes, like syphilis with us, bad disease (British East 
Africa). A snake becomes creeping thing (Bengal); 
a long animal (Malacca). A thief becomes the unwel- 
come visitor (Bengal) ; an elephant, the great animal 
(Malacca). A hare is called the four-footed one; he that 
hides in the rocks (So. India). The "camphor lan- 
guage," 5 a secret dialect of the Malay peninsula, makes 
of rice, grass fruit, and of a gun, far-sounding. Rice 
reapers may not call each other by their proper names, 
but only by the nonspecific man, girl, old man, old woman 
(Sumatra). "Noun-amnesia" is partly simulated in a 

5 Must be used while camphor is being gathered, even by those 
not actually engaged in doing so, to propitiate the tutelary spirit of 
the camphor trees. Frazer, "Taboo and the Perils of the Soul" 
(1914), 405. 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 85 

secret language of Celebes, in which the hand is that with 
which one reaches, the ear is that with which one hears, 
a gun is fire-producer. Here is the same tendency to get 
away from the tabu association by using a vaguer term 
for the idea. 

The particularizing symbols in these observations do 
not show the half -humorous, half -contemptuous character 
illustrated in modern slang. Instead, indifferent or flat- 
tering terms are employed. If a person is bitten by a 
snake, the Cherokee says he has been scratched by a briar; 
just as in contemporary speech a local designation for 
stepping in cow dung is to cut one's foot. If a snake is 
called a strap, it will lie still (Herero). Under the tabu, 
salt must be called sweet peppers (Madagascar) ; boars 
must be called handsome men (Java) ; smallpox is termed 
pretty girl (Java), the prince of the avert ers of misfor- 
tune (Sumatra), or, indifferently, grains of corn (British 
East Africa). (Frazer.) 

Some of these symbolisms are rationalized by way of 
propitiation of superior or evil powers, or of keeping a 
necessary secret. For example, the " noun-amnesic " 
language of Celebes is said to be used to prevent the 
rice crop from knowing what is to be done to it. In 
others no rationalization is traced. 

In the fable, not a single idea, but a short system of 
coordinated ideas is symbolized. Abstract and general 
principles are expressed by such concrete symbols as the 
dog crossing the stream with meat in his mouth, or the 
fox who invites the crane to dinner. When the system of 
ideas symbolized becomes more complex, it is called a 
parable or an allegory. They serve to make the symbols 
more vivid by putting them in a setting with other symbols 
to reinforce them. An exquisite example twice occur- 



86 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

ring in recent poetry is that of the white signal lamps of 
safety welcoming a dying railroad-man beyond the grave. 

Symbols may occur through any process of association. 
Things of the greatest interest are apt to have the greatest 
number of associations, or the intensest ones. Thus, 
ideas which are of the greatest interest, or make the 
greatest demand for distinctive names, will come to have 
other words stand for them. The symbolism may serve 
to emphasize the pleasant idea or to disguise the unpleas- 
ant one. We have thus reviewed the ways by which in 
language one idea comes to stand for another idea, and 
the principles in other classes of symbolism are similar. 

Although one speaks of the kettle boiling, one does not 
identify the kettle with the water in any form of judgment 
or conduct, as by trying to drink it. When an idea sym- 
bolizes another idea in language, the symbolism is one of 
words only. The ideas are not identified in the conduct 
of the individual. The kettle is not a symbol of water ex- 
cept in words. A flag is a symbol of a higher order. It 
represents its nation for certain sorts of conduct. Salute 
and insult to it are salute and insult to the nation. The 
identification does not go beyond this, however. If it is 
dragged in the dust, the nation is considered as thereby 
insulted, but not as injured. All symbolism is this identi- 
fication of one thing with another to a greater or less de- 
gree. This process of identification extends until we find 
beliefs that any act performed upon the symbol is thereby 
performed upon the thing symbolized. (Sympathetic 
magic.) 

There are obvious limits to which this identification can 
usefully go. The symbolisms of language and of the flag 
are useful, those of sympathetic magic are wasteful. To 
introduce the psychic mechanisms of symbolism through 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 87 

the common symbols of language has the advantage that 
the clearest symbols are much more numerous there than 
elsewhere. As students of dynamic psychology, however, 
we must leave this field to consider instances in which the 
identification begins to be reflected in judgment and con- 
duct. This is seldom true of linguistic symbolisms as 
such ; but a few such instances were described in the pre- 
vious chapter (kidney shot, pp. 57-58). Where 

judgment and conduct are affected, the symbol is usually 
independent of its linguistic form. 

Braune, in his collection of Old High German texts, 
quotes a group of symbolisms between religion and natural 
history. They are based on associations by similarity, 
and run in part as follows : 6 

1. Here I begin a discourse about the beasts, what they 
severally betoken. The lion betokens our Savior through 
his strength, and thereby is often mentioned in the holy writ. 
Thus Jacob said, in naming his son Judas, " Judas my son 
is the whelp of the lion." The lion has three things about 
him which symbolize our Savior. One is this: When he 
goes in the forest and smells the hunters, then he destroys 
the track with his claws so that they do not find him. 
Thus did our Savior, when he was in the world among men, 
so that the enemy should not understand that he was the 
Son of God. Then when the lion sleeps, his eyes watch. 
But in that they are open, therein he betokens our Savior, 
who himself said in the book of Song of Songs, Ego dormio 
et cor meum vigilat. That he rested in the human body 
and waked in the godhead. When the lioness brings forth, 
then the little lion is dead, so she keeps it until the third day. 
Then the father comes and blows on it, and thus it is brought 
to life. So did the Almighty Father wake his only begotten 
Son from death on the third day. 

2. In the water of the Nile is a kind of serpent which is 
called the hydra, and is the enemy of the crocodile. For so 

6 Quoted from a contribution of the writer's to the Journal of 
Philosophy, Psychology and Scientific Methods. Cf. also Kelsey, 
" Physical Basis of Society," 1917, p. 157. 



88 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

the hydra rolls herself in the mud, and springs into his 
mouth and slips into him. Then she bites his inside, until 
he dies, and she goes out whole. The crocodile betokens 
death and hell. The hydra betokens our Savior, who took 
upon himself the body of mankind thereto that he overthrew 
our death, and vanquished hell and returned victorious. 

3. In the ocean are wonderful beasts which are called 
sirens and onocentaurs. Sirens are mermaids and are like 
women as far as the navel and from there up like birds, 
and should be very beautiful. When they see men traveling 
on the water, then they sing very sweetly until they are so 
charmed with the exquisite song that they fall asleep. 
When the mermaid sees that, then it goes in and destroys 
them. Therein it betokens the enemy, who seduces the mind 
of man to worldly lusts. The onocentaur is half man and 
half ass, and betokens them who are " ambitendent " (zuival- 
tic) in their tongues and in their hearts, and have the appear- 
ance of righteousness yet do not fulfil it in their deeds. 

4. A beast is called the hyena, and is sometimes male and 
sometimes female, and therein is very unclean; such are 
they who first called upon Christ and then sought after the 
evil one. It betokens them who are not unbelieving, nor 
yet rightly believing. Of them said Solomon, " They who 
are ambitendent in their hearts are also ambitendent in their 
works." 

5. Also is there an animal called elevas, that is an ele- 
phant, who has great understanding upon him, and no lust 
of the flesh. Thus when he wishes a child, he goes with 
his mate to the field, where grows the mandrake that is the 
child plant, so the elephant eats the plant, and his mate, 
and when they come together thereafter, then she conceives. 
And when she is to bring forth, she goes to a ditch full of 
water and brings forth there. . . . The elephant and his 
mate betoken Adam and Eve, who were innocent until they 
ate the fruit which God forbade them, and were free from 
all unclean desires. And as soon as they had eaten the 
fruit, they were driven forth into the misery of the present 
existence. The ditch full of water betokens that he said, 
" Salvum me fac, deus." 

6. There is a kind of snake called the viper, of her phisiol- 
ogns relates, that when she is to become pregnant, . . . 
then she swallows the semen and becomes so desirous that 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 89 

she bites off his genitals, and he straightway lies dead. 
Then when the young have grown in her womb, then they 
bite through her and thus go out. The snakes are compar- 
able to the Jews, who polluted themselves with unclean acts, 
and persecuted their father Christ, and their mother, the 
holy Christianity. Also God commands us in one of the 
gospels, that we should be as wise as these same serpents. 
There are three kinds of snakes ; one kind, when she becomes 
old, her sight fades ; then she fasts forty days and forty 
nights, and all her skin loosens, then she seeks a stone with 
a hole in it, slips through, scrapes the skin off and thus 
rejuvenates herself. Another kind there is, that when she 
wishes to drink, she first spits out the poison. From this 
worm we should take the example, that when we are to 
drink the spiritual water, that is given to us from the hand 
of our Savior, we should first spew out the uncleanness 
with which we are defiled. The third kind is, when she sees 
the man naked, she flees from him ; but if he is clothed, she 
attacks him. So also our father Adam, so long as he was 
naked in the garden of Paradise, the devil might do nothing 
against him. 

It would seem as though the false notions of natural 
history had been devised to correspond with the religious 
beliefs. Apparently the symbols are not merely figurative, 
but imply the belief that causal relationship exists between 
the symbol and what it betokens. That is, the variable 
sex of the hyena and the variable dispositions of men are 
regarded as part of a single cosmic process ; one produces 
the other, or both have the same cause. By so much they 
differ from incidental metaphors. 

The following case, quoted by Scripture, shows an as- 
sociation-mechanism of much the same type as above, but 
with clearer evidence of its influence upon judgment. It 
is based upon a number-symbolism applied to the satellites 
of Jupiter : 

There are seven windows in the head, two nostrils, two 
eyes, two ears, and a mouth ; so in the heavens there are two 



90 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

favorable stars, two unpropitious, two luminaries, and Mer- 
cury alone undecided and indifferent. From which and 
many other similar phenomena of nature, which it were 
tedious to enumerate, we gather that the number of planets 
is necessarily seven. 

The identification with seven is carried far beyond the 
bounds of relevancy. It is " autistic thinking " of a 
scarcely higher degree than that of the Achinese fisherman 
who must not speak the word for clear because it might 
enable the fish to get " clear " of the net. 

Every one knows the fairy tale of " Rumpelstiltzkin," 
who was destroyed when the girl pronounced his right 
name. Similar ideas about the name are very widespread. 
The name is so closely identified with its owner that who- 
ever learns the name can thereby exercise power over him. 
For example, " the Wolofs of Senegambia ase very much 
annoyed if any one calls them in a loud voice, even by 
day ; for they say that their name will be remembered by 
an evil spirit and made use of by him to do them a mis- 
chief at night." Sometimes it is only that the name must 
not be told by the person owning it. The symbolism per- 
sists in modern speech, where we talk of injury to a per- 
son's name. The notion of power over a person thus 
acquired, is brought down to date in the expression got 
his number. 

For more complete forms of symbolic identification we 
must turn to uncultivated peoples. The uselessness of such 
identifications in meeting the tests of experience is so pat- 
ent that they do not long survive in the natural selection of 
ideas. Sumner mentions how a Hindu had to be married 
to a tree or a doll of cotton, before he could marry a 
widow. 7 The tree or doll symbolizes a wife from whom 
he is widowed on his part. 
7 " Folkways," 389. Cf. also 393. 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 91 

As above with the name, a great function of identifying 
a symbol with the thing symbolized is, to confer power 
over the thing symbolized. The exercise of this power 
is " sympathetic magic." There are two kinds of sym- 
pathetic magic. Native Victorians draw a figure of their 
enemy on the ground, and destroy him by their incanta- 
tions around it. This is called imitative magic, and pro- 
ceeds through association by similarity, i. e., the similarity 
of the figure to the real person. It is a pervasive feature 
of primitive mental life. Holinshed gives the description 
of a Scotch procedure, familiar to students of Macbeth, 
which includes all the essential features (with some re- 
ligious admixture) ; its quaint language makes it the more 
worth repeating : 

But about that present time there was a murmuring 
amongst the people, how the king was vexed with no nat- 
urall sicknesse, but by sorcerie and magicall art, practised 
by a sort of witches, dwelling in a towne of Murreyland 
called Fores. . . . Wherevpon learning by hir confession 
in what house in the towne it was where they wrought there 
mischiefous mysterie, he sent foorth souldiers, about the 
middest of the night, who breaking into the house, found 
one of the witches rosting vpon a wooden broch an image of 
wax at the fier, resembling in each feature the kings person, 
made and deuised (as is to be thought) by craft and art of 
the diuell: an other of them sat reciting certeine words of 
inchantment, and still basted the image with a certeine 
liquor verie busilie. 

The souldiers finding them occupied in this wise, tooke 
them togither with the image, and led them into the castell, 
where being streictlie examined for what purpose they went 
about such manner of inchantment, they answered, to the 
end to make away the king: for as the image did waste 
afore the fire, so did the bodie of the king break foorth in 
sweat. And as for the words of inchantment, they serued 
to keepe him still waking from sleepe, so that as the wax 
euer melted, so did the kings flesh: by the which means it 
should haue come to passe, that when the wax was once 



92 



MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 



clean consumed, the death of the king should immediatlie 
follow. So they were taught by euill spirits, and hired to 
worke the feat by the nobles of Murrey land. The 
standers by, that heard such an abominable tale told by 
these witches, streightwaies brake the image, and caused the 
witches, (according as they had well deserued) to be burned 
to death. 

The following brief table of related procedures is col- 
lated from Frazer's material : 



Tribe or Place 
O j ibway 

Malay 

Eastern Java 
Torres Straits 



Symbol 
little wooden image 

image of beeswax 



likeness drawn on 

paper 
wax effigy 



Procedure and Effect 

Stab to injure; bury 
with magic words to 
kill. 

Pierce eye to blind, 
etc., transfix and 
bury to kill. 

Kills by burning or 
burying it. 

Pierce with stingray; 
stingray will sting 
him in same place 
next time he fishes. 

Left in wood ; as it de- 
cays, person dies. 

Pierce with needle ; 
will be wounded in 
same spot in next 
fight. 

Cut with razor and 
pierce with pegs to 
kill. 

Stick full of pins and 
glass (in heart if to 
kill at once, not 
otherwise) ; put in 
running water with 
head up-stream. 



The intimacy of the identification with the symbol ex- 
tends even to anatomical detail. It is reported that such 
implicit faith is placed in the efficacy of the procedures 
that persons have been seriously affected on learning that 
the magic had been directed against them. Per contra, 
images of children are specially treated by women to make 



Lerons of Borneo wooden image 

Matabele clay figure 

Bam-Margi Hindus image of flour or earth 

Highland Scotch clay image 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 93 

themselves conceive. These examples give no complete 
idea of the mental mechanisms in magic through associ- 
ation by similarity. The criteria of similarity often show 
a good deal of associative finesse. A pregnant woman of 
the Haida Indians lets eels and round stones slide over 
her abdomen to bring an easy delivery. To secure male 
offspring, a Saibai woman of Torres Straits will press to 
her abdomen a fruit resembling the male organ, giving it 
then to another woman who has had only boys. Eskimo 
children may not play cat's cradle, because later their 
fingers might become tangled in the harpoon line. There 
are many analogous tabus against the use of the spindle. 
Other interesting procedures deal with the food-supply. 
In one tribe, the men masturbate upon the clove-trees to 
secure the fertility of the soil. Malay camphor-hunters 
must not eat their salt fine, or they will find only small 
grains of camphor. A Brazilian tribe must always ham- 
string a deer before bringing it home, or they and their 
children will always be eluded by their enemies. When 
the men of one of the Dyak tribes are away fighting, the 
women must wake early or the men will oversleep; they 
must not oil their hair or the men will slip. They must 
prepare pop corn and scatter it on the porch every morn- 
ing; thus agility will be imparted to the men, etc., etc. 
(Frazer). Josiah Moses directs attention to a similar 
element of sympathetic magic in the doctrine of signa- 
tures. " Bloodroot, on account of its red juice, is good 
for the blood ; liverwort, having a leaf like the liver, cures 
diseases of the liver; . . . celandine, having a }^ellow 
juice, cures jaundice; . . . bear's grease, being taken 
from an animal thickly covered with hair, is recommended 
to persons fearing baldness." 8 
8 Path. A. Rel, 181. 



94 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

A few symbols show combination of association by 
similarity with association by contiguity. An image of 
the person to be affected may be made with pieces of his 
clothes, or some of his hair or finger nails. In many 
cases, however, there is no attempt at constructing a phys- 
ical likeness, but the charm is worked merely upon some- 
thing with which the person has been associated by contig- 
uity. This is the second main division of sympathetic 
magic, being called contagious magic. If any harm comes 
to an extracted tooth it may affect the previous owner. 
A tree to which Maoris used to attach the navel-cords of 
their children was embraced by barren women to obtain 
offspring. There are many procedures with the placenta 
for safeguarding the well-being of the child. Among the 
Melanesians, if a man's friends find an arrow which has 
wounded him, they keep it in a damp place, and with cool 
leaves, to make the inflammation subside. If his enemies 
find it, they put it in the fire to further inflame the wound. 
They " keep the bowstring taut, and twang it occasion- 
ally, for this will cause the wounded man to suffer from 
tension of the nerves and spasms of tetanus." This prin- 
ciple of a " hair of the dog that bit you " is reflected in 
the idea that injuries may be treated by treating the nail 
or knife by which they were caused. Frazer gives it as 
an especially pervasive superstition that by injuring foot- 
prints the feet that made them are injured. Thus, if a 
nail is driven into a man's footprints, he will fall lame. 

Those things which have likeness to, or things which 
have been in contact with, the object to be affected, be- 
come symbolic representatives of that object, and acts per- 
formed upon them will be effective upon it. It is identi- 
fied with them for good or ill, and they are symbols of it. 
These are the sole conditions that need be satisfied for a 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 95 

symbolism of the most complete degree of identification 
to be established. In .this way practically any symbolism 
is possible under the laws of association. Wherever ideas 
are associated, mechanisms of symbolism exist. Wher- 
ever ideas are pleasant or unpleasant, motives of sym- 
bolism exist. 

Though the symbolism may be clear enough, we cannot 
always trace the process of association. What, for exam- 
ple, is the association between such terms as cut, foxed, 
out of funds, hard up, whipped, whittled, and the drunk- 
enness they are used to denote? Or between this state 
and the neologisms like cronk, spiffed, stropolus? No 
doubt it would be possible to construct some kinds of asso- 
ciation between them and drunkenness, but this would 
give no assurance that they had actually led to the sym- 
bolism. The idea must be associated with its symbol 
in some way, and apparently may be associated with it in 
any way; but we must not expect to be able always to 
trace the association. On the other hand, it is obvious 
that the possibility of symbolism cannot be excluded on 
the mere ground that none of the more obvious kinds of 
association can subsequently be traced. Who can be sure 
of what association led originally to the recently popular 
symbolism of twenty-three? Many explanations were 
offered. There was no doubt as to what the fateful 
number symbolized. To consider only symbols in which 
associative contact was clear for him who runs to read 
would inevitably result in a loss of a large portion of the 
facts. The criterion of symbolism is strictly this: how 
clearly and how far does the supposed symbol function 
as a representative of what it is supposed to symbolize? 

Our first serious contact with this question comes in 
the problem of symbolism in dreams. The initial fact of 



96 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

dream-symbolism does not seem open to doubt. Per- 
haps the simplest sort is the symbolic re-interpretation of 
sense-perceptions in the dream. This is a common oc- 
currence, which Kipling's account of slumbers in a tor- 
pedo boat serves to illustrate. 

Anon, I caught the tramp of armies afoot, the hum of 
crowded cities awaiting the event, the single sob of a woman, 
and dry roaring of wild beasts. A dropped shovel clanging 
on the stokehold floor, was, naturally enough, the unbarring 
of arena gates ; our sucking uplift across the crest of some 
little swell, nothing less than the haling forth of new worlds ; 
our half-turning descent into the hollow of its mate, the 
abysmal plunge of God-forgotten planets. Through all 
these phenomena and more — though I ran with wild 
horses over illimitable plains of rustling grass ; though I 
crouched belly-flat under appalling fires of musketry ; though 
I was Livingstone, painless and incurious in the grip of his 
lion — my eyes saw the lamp swinging in its gimbals, the 
irregularly gliding patch of light on the steel ladder, and 
even' elastic shadow on the corners of the frail angle irons ; 
while my body strove to accommodate itself to the infernal 
vibration of the machine. 

The writer has observed instances in which the eyes 
open in a struggle to awake from a nightmare-like state, 
and objects seen are accordingly misinterpreted. Thus, 
on one occasion, some irregular patches of light on the 
wall were thought to be the figure of a colleague watch- 
ing for the dreamer to wake, and the idea was present : 
" It is fortunate that it is he, and not some one who 
might do me an injury while in this powerless condition.'"' 
That is, a certain idea associated with the perception 
comes to awareness instead of the perception itself, and 
assumes " reality ' ' in place of it. Xow — and this next 
step is most important — just as perceptions may be rep- 
resented in the dream under strange, though associated, 



# 
SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 97 

guises, so may ideas be represented in the dream in 
strange guises. 

To learn this has not been so easy as in the case of 
perceptions. Where the idea has come as a perception 
through the eye, ear, skin, or perhaps, the digestive or- 
gans, we are much more likely to know what has hap- 
pened and to be able to catch its distorted reflection in the 
current of the dream. However, these are the most cer- 
tain demonstrations of symbolism that can be supplied 
for dream ideas. The best are those cited by Kraepelin. 
Here, as in the instances quoted in the last chapter, the 
dreamer is aware of intending to have one thing said, but 
actually something else is said. So far as the dream is 
concerned, what was actually said seems to mean just 
what was intended to be said. 

In a considerable number of cases, in which it was clear 
to me that I had dreamed and experienced an example of 
speech that I must attempt to retain, this example would at 
first, to my disillusionment, seem to present no deviation 
from the waking expression ; so that there seemed to be no 
object in noting it. Only after continued and deeper reflec- 
tion would the nonsense character of what had been said 
gradually become clear to me. 9 

What is said, therefore, is unquestionably symbolic of 
what was intended to be said. The dreamer means to 
say, " the voluntary furnishing of coal/' and says, " the 
handling of voluntary 0)31," thus personifying the coal, 
as it were. As a rule, the expressions are in obvious and 
near association to one another. Illustrations are as fol- 

d 9 This is true of revelations under ether. The profound convic- 
tion of momentous truth is present, which, so far as it finds expres- 
sion, is based upon slight support. Dr. Holmes kept on writing so 
long as he could control the pen. The sense of mystery solved was 
supreme ; the written words recorded only that a smell of turpentine 
pervaded the atmosphere. 
8 



98 



MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 



lows ; they seem to lose nothing by translation. The first 
two fall in with the cases of re-interpreted perceptions : 



Dream -form 
awakened from the cow-barn 

a monarchical coup de grace 

but at that she placed her feet to 

the left 
if one does not possess a proper 

intellectual trouser-seat 
put off the intellectual shirt-col- 
lar 
he announces, that he has left the 

louse-cask of life 
veteran clock (Invalidenuhr) 
the handling of voluntary coals 
sense of the variegated sixth 
the eye-sensations must also get 
up 

Pischdorf and Heinrichau have 
long been known to me as ir- 
responsible 

in Freiburg the inside of the 
plate serves not for eating, but 
for the place 

can you do that with sympathetic 
construction-of-the-distance 
(Fernbildung) 

thus it was possible for the old 
fisherman to keep himself sand- 
bank-tired 



Meaning 
(Dreamer heard knocking at a 

distant door) 
(Dreamer heard coals being 

poured) 
She did it unwillingly 

. . . possess thorough knowledge, 

industry 
let one's self go, rest, live on a 

pension 
(Jesting obituary) 

old clock 

voluntary furnishing of coal 

sixth sense of plants 

in awakening, it is not sufficient 

that one wakes ; one must also 

open the eyes 
one can easily get confused there 



on the plate is a picture of Frei- 
burg 

can you see stereoscopically 



in the day's journey he had so 
spared his strength that he 
could still save himself by 
means of the sandbank 



Kraepelin's additional notes illuminate the following: 

when one thinks of it, all the wild the small, unimportant collections 
apple-galleries in N. 

In the wild apple-galleries the general idea of the uncul- 
tivated, not to be refined through art or care, is replaced by 
the particular idea of the " wild apples." 

it is really a punch-holding indi- 
vidual 



(admiring exclamation at the 
sight of a beautiful landscape) 



We meet the same turning of thought from the general 
to the particular ... in the observation where the peculiar 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 99 

adjective punschhaltig is apparently meant to have some 
sense like intoxicating or charming. 

The most remarkable of all is as follows, not reproducible 
in English: 

Ich lache mich zu Blei Ich lache Tranen (I laugh till I 

(I laugh myself to lead) cry) 

Here two allied expressions, Ich lache mich zu Tode and 
Ich lache Tranen appear to have arisen simultaneously. To 
the latter there associated itself the English equivalent to 
cry falsely changed over into the similar-sounding to ply, 
which in turn aroused the sound association to Blei. It 
would have been impossible to unravel these obscure connec- 
tions, if the dreamer had not himself still been in a position 
to describe them. 

Hollingworth reports some parallel observations, from 
the state of drowsiness: 

Q. Let's hurry and get there by 10 o'clock. 

A. That's easy. I could get there by a nickel to ten. 
(Spoken at 9.55.) 

The (actual) rush of water heard through a porthole 
becomes transformed into the (dreamy) husky voice of 
a salesman trying to sell the drowsy one a suit. Subject 
wonders at the husky voice, and why the salesman has no 
more inflection. 

Three (actual) blasts of an orchestra became (dreamy) 
movements of some huge bug which came sailing from 
behind the wings, suddenly alighting on the stage, first on 
the two hind feet, then bringing down the middle pair, and 
finally the two front feet with the final blast. 

While trying to get to sleep the numbers of the subject's 
gymnasium locker kept ringing in his head, the left side 
seeming 52, the right side 36, and the back 5236. It seemed 
(dreaming) that if he could juggle these numbers into the 
right combination he could find a more comfortable posi- 
tion. 

The above contain two transformations of sensory expe- 
rience and two transformations of ideas. Thus " a nickel 
to ten " symbolizes five minutes to ten, and the locker num- 
bers symbolize the position of the would-be sleeper. 



100 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

The following more elaborate illustrations are quoted 
from Silberer : 10 

Conditions: In the evening before going to sleep. I 
endeavor in spite of my drowsiness to develop a train of 
thought; instead of getting further with it, I keep losing it. 
Drozvsiness idea: I am climbing a precipice but slide 
back considerably at every step at which loose stones roll off. 
Interpretation: Without going into the content of the 
thoughts which I had, the hypnagogic scene represents in 
many ways the psychic process. It represents my mental 
endeavor in that it makes me mount a difficult precipice. It 
represents the uselessness of the exertion in that it makes me 
continually slide back and not reach the end for which I am 
striving (mountain top, i.e., clear comprehension of the idea 
I am pursuing). It illustrates the decrease in the ap- 
perception of my idea through the " fragmentation " 
(Abbrockeln) of the rolling stone. The connected train of 
thought " fragments " under my laborious steps. 

Conditions: In the evening before going to sleep. Eitig- 
enommener Kopf. Dull headache. Drowsiness idea: I 
see a matchbox before me which is placed upside down (i.e., 
so that the heads of the matches are downward). Inter- 
pretation: the heads of the matches refer to my head. I feel 
myself inflamed, hence the matches, in whose heads there is 
also a latent fire which may burst out just as with me the 
expected inflammatory illness (influenza). The matches 
are in a wooden box, my head also is as though nailed up 
with boards. The matches have their heads downward; I 
feel also as though I stood on my head (blood-pressure). 

The present writer can contribute dreams of his own, 
in each of which a definite symbolism was subjectively 
evident at the time of the dream: 

The dreamer is examining some psychological apparatus, 
in consultation with the builder of it. The apparatus is 
inclosed in a case much larger than necessary, and the two 
consider the advisability of mounting some other instru- 

10 "Ueber die Symbolbildung," lahrb. f. psa. u. psp. Forsch, III 
(1912), 687. Cf. also, " Symbolik des Erwachens u. Schwellen- 
symbolik uberhaupt," Ibid. 621-660. 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 101 

ments in the same case. The builder points to an unoccu- 
pied portion of the case, " And then there's all this space to 
let." 

This symbolism, i.e., " to let " instead of " available 
for another purpose," would serve as a perfectly ordinary 
figure of speech. The case is hardly so with the follow- 
ing, which is given with some details not relevant to the 
present point, but for later reference (p. 120) : 

Dreamer has just bought some supplies at the market, and 
walks down the station platform. The weather threatens 
a breaking storm. On the platform are two acquaintances, 
X and Y, who in the dream are bitter enemies, though 
actually not so. In this character they stand some distance 
apart on the platform, and do not notice each other. 
Dreamer first passes X (toward whom he feels actually a 
little antagonism), and makes a commonplace remark to him 
about the weather. Then passing Y (with whom he is on 
much closer terms), he looks again at the sky, sees it excep- 
tionally black, and says, referring to the weather, " It looks 
like another scrap between you and X." Y smiles and 
agrees. Dreamer passes on, walking toward the hospital, 
and the rain begins, at once becoming a violent driving 
storm. Just as he passes Dr. R.'s house, he finds he has not 
brought the purchased supplies, and is greatly annoyed at 
not having done so. Then he remembers that he should not 
have brought them, since they are to be delivered where he 
lives ; but the annoyance persists to the effect of waking him. 

The conflict and enmity between X and Y become rep- 
resentative of the conflict of the elements. Again : 

Dream : A copy of Stephen Leacock's " Nonsense 
Novels " is left in a store while the dreamer goes away for 
some purpose, now not clear. (The book is green; the 
actual copy in the dreamer's possession is brownish red.) 
On returning, and asking the shopkeeper for the book, the 
name of author can no longer be recalled; there is an em- 
barrassed hesitation, which terminates in asking for the 
" book by Edgar Lavalle," with a pronounced feeling of 
" that isn't right, but it will have to do." 



102 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Obviously Edgar Lavalle functions as a symbol of 
Stephen Leacock. It happens that one fairly close asso- 
ciative connection can be reconstructed between the two, 
for Lavalle is one of the large universities in Montreal, 
and Leacock is at McGill, the other university. No such 
hypothesis can be offered for Edgar. Nor can anything 
probable be offered as to how Stephen Leacock came to 
be temporarily lost, though various possibilities are pres- 
ent to the writer's mind. 

A wholly nonlinguistic symbolism is the follow- 
ing: 

Dream : A game of tennis (played tennis the day before) 
suggests particularly a game played with Dr. X six or seven 
years previously. The tennis ball is of unusual form, sug- 
gests a human embryo. The idea comes, " Is the child 
worth saving?" with the answer, "No, it is not," and the 
ball is returned over the net with a peculiar stroke, to have 
the effect of killing it. (Not the " killing " stroke of tennis, 
but a twisted one.) There is plain awareness in the dream 
of the child-ball symbolism. 

In the following, dream-symbols are explained by an- 
other character in the dream: 

Dream: Te. is discussing with the dreamer the conduct 
of Mu., who has behaved dishonorably. In the course of 
the discussion, Te.^sks the question, " Could you wear 
that ? " Dreamer indicating that he does not understand, 
Te. explains that it means, would the dreamer consider it 
proper to act in such a way as Mu. has done. Later, of 
another aspect of Mu.'s conduct, Te. asks, " What kind of 
a curtain is that ? " and to dreamer's query explains that this 
means what kind of a justification is that for Mu.'s conduct. 11 
Dreamer laughingly remarks that he " Cannot keep up with 
all these new slang expressions; you will have to use six 
months' old ones on me." 

This is a good example of the " dissociative " symbol- 
11 Cf. the expression, " cloak " for one's actions. 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 103 

ism of Chapter VI (p. 218), it being patent that the 
dreamer's main personality does not understand the sym- 
bolic expressions until they are explained by the split-off 
trends of the dreamer's mind which compose the person- 
ality of Te. (Cf. footnote to p. 189.) 

We have no reason to suppose that the kinds of asso- 
ciation that give rise to symbolisms in dreams differ par- 
ticularly from the kinds of association by which symbols 
are established in waking life. Waking, we call the dol- 
lar a piece of lettuce; in the dream, accordingly, a capi- 
talist might well be represented by a market gardener 
tending greenhouses full of the product. We say that a 
drunken person is sewed up, has a turkey on his back, is 
gilded. In the dream we could expect to see him actu- 
ally sewn in a sack, as a fugitive poultry thief, or person- 
ating the ill-fated little boy at the coronation of the 
mediaeval Pope. It might seem far-fetched, but it would 
be only using a symbol perfectly current in normal speech, 
to dream of a person eating bits of cloth, who in waking 
life shows great talkativeness. In dream symbolisms, as 
in others, " reasonableness " of the associative connection 
is quite superfluous. 

Such is the evidence that the dream and allied states' 
are at least capable of presenting in symbolic form ideas 
and experiences which are recognized. The most satis- 
factory evidence of the symbolism involved is that of 
direct subjective awareness of the symbolism; this ap- 
pears in nearly all the above instances. These cases of 
subjective awareness seem most frequent in drowsiness 
or in very light sleeping states, and are rare in ordinary 
sleep. Let it be clear in what terms dream symbolism is 
being defined: Dream-ideas have hallucinatory vivid- 
ness, that is, they are identified with reality. Dream- 



104 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

ideas appear as the equivalents of certain other ideas with 
which they are associatively connected. Edgar Lavalle 
symbolizes Stephen Leacock; a nickel to ten symbolizes 
five minutes to ten; Psypen symbolizes psychische Typen. 
One of Prince's cases desired to record the details of a 
vision as soon as it appeared. 12 In the process she pro- 
duced an elaborate poem. It gave to the vision a very 
personal and sentimental interpretation. But this inter- 
pretation was not consciously in the mind at the time of 
writing. The writing described a symbolism that was in 
the mind, but outside of consciousness. It is suggested 
by such observations that dream-ideas in general, perhaps 
all the remainder of them, are also symbols of associated 
ideas, in which the connection is obscured. 

Since the dream-symbol is presumed to be associated 
with the thing symbolized, a preliminary mo^e of ap- 
proach is to note the dream-content as remembered, and 
then observe the ideas which, in the waking state, come 
up in association with this content. It is supposed that 
somewhere among these will be found ideas of which 
the dream-ideas were representative. This is a branch 
of the psychoanalytic procedure, which consists in thor- 
oughly examining mental contents of all sorts, so far as 
they can be conveyed in terms of language. 13 For a 
given dream-idea, a number of associated ideas may thus 
be recorded. There is no immediate means of know- 
ing which of these ideas underlay the dream idea. The 
check upon the correctness of interpretation so arrived 

12 Unc, 204ft. 

13 Pfister defines as follows : " Psychoanalysis is a scientific method 
adapted to neurotic and mentally diseased, as well as normal individ- 
uals, which, through the collection and interpretation of associated 
ideas (but avoiding hypnotism and enforced suggestion), seeks to 
determine and to influence the mental trends and mental contents 
lying below the threshold of consciousness," D. psa. Met., 16. 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 105 

at, is that the interpretation be put to some further test 
of symbolism than the simple fact of association. 14 

Freud's hypothesis is that there exist in the mind large 
groups of ideas of which the waking personality does 
not have awareness. They are not like reflex or auto- 
matic mental processes, such as walking, of which we are 
unaware because they are instinctive or habitual. These 
ideas are too painful for the personality to contemplate, 
and they do not come to awareness because the mind is 
able (as is presumed), to oppose resistances to them 
which prevent their reaching awareness. Thoughts of 
certain kinds do not overcome this intrapsychic resist- 
ance, and the personality does not become aware of them. 
They are tabu. We shall speak of them here as sub- 
merged ideas; they are parts of the unconscious. (Chap- 
ter V.) One of the properties of sleep is that during it 
this intrapsychic resistance is somewhat diminished, and 
the submerged ideas come nearer awareness. But, if 
they came to awareness in too near their true form, the 
sleeper would wake in horror (nightmare). Therefore, 
they reach awareness only as symbols, which may in 
themselves be pleasant, or at least not so unpleasant as 
to interrupt the process of sleep. Thus a girl with sub- 
merged erotic feelings does not dream herself ravished, 
but as running along a street in the red-light district. 
(Pfister.) The mind is like a city whose inhabitants are 
by day engaged in the peaceful pursuits of legitimate 
commerce; but at night, when all the good burghers are 
sound asleep in their beds, out come these disreputable 

* 4 The boldest applications of the method have been made by its 
originators. Critics of the method object that any test of symbolism 
is not, or cannot consistently be applied. Freud and his followers 
are led to a general conclusion which covers at once the character 
of all dream-symbolism, and the motive for it. 



106 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

members of the psychic underworld to disport themselves 
in their own peculiar and unseemly fashion, decking 
themselves out in fantastic costumes, in order that they 
may not be recognized and apprehended. (Campbell.) 

A physical model to illustrate the process could be 
constructed of the following elements, the whole con- 
stituting a thermostat with automatic cut-off for the 
source of heat when it accidentally becomes too great. 

In the model as outlined (p. 107), the analogies are, 

Electric action Dream-ideas 

Resistance of electrolyte Intrapsychic resistance 

Sleep Gas-flame 

The operation of the analogy would be as follows: 

1. Electrolyte cold. Waking state. Intrapsychic 
Its resistance too high resistance too high for sub- 
for any current to merged ideas to come to aware- 
pass, ness in any form. 

2. Gas-flame lit and Sleep established. Intrapsy- 
electrolyte heated ; its re- chic resistance thereby dimin- 
sistance thereby dimin- ished so that submerged ideas 
ished so that some cur- can come up to awareness in the 
rent can flow through. form of symbols. 

3. The more the elec- The greater the diminution of 
trolyte is heated, the intrapsychic resistance in sleep, 15 
lower its resistance and the nearer to their true form the 
the more current can submerged ideas can come to the 
pass through. surface of awareness. 

4. When the electro- In order that the dream may 
lyte is heated to a certain act as the "guardian of sleep," 
degree, it operates a the intrapsychic resistance must 
thermo-regulator which not become too low, as this would 
checks the gas-flame, allow the submerged ideas to 
keeping the electrolyte come to awareness in too near 

15 It should perhaps be said here that intrapsychic resistance is 
not supposed to be proportional to the depth of sleep. The factors 
on which it depends are not known. 




107 



108 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

from getting too warm their true form, which would 
and letting too much awaken the sleeper, 
current through. 

5. The thermo-regula- If the intrapsychic resistance 
tor for checking the gas- is so diminished that the sub- 
flame sometimes fails, merged ideas come to the surface 
In this case, the electro- in too near their true form, i.e., 
lyte becomes over-heated insufficiently disguised by sym- 
and lets more current bols, the affective reaction is so 
through than the appara- great that the sleeper wakes, 
tus is made to stand, usually in a terror. 
Then the combined cir- 
cuit-breaker and auto- 
matic gas cut-off operate, 
interrupt the current, 
and extinguish the gas- 
flame. 

What, then, are these terrible creatures of trie mind, 
which, " like the Demons in whose company Afrasiab 
made his voyage down the Oxus, must be suffered to 
slumber, or we perish " ? The human organism is not 
in the habit of going into terror-paralyses in the presence 
of mere ideas. Freud considers that the ultimate sources 
of the submerged ideas are in trends of quite early life, 
many of which are most repugnant to the adult personal- 
ity. For example, we should find more marked in child- 
hood that " germinal possibility " of abnormal sexual 
conduct, which William James long since attributed to 
most of us. If such ideas come to us in waking life, we 
do not act on them, and they do not trouble us. But in 
dreams, when ideas seem real, such ideas (or sometimes 
their dream-symbols) may arouse in us all the affective 
reaction that their actual experience would arouse in the 
waking state. 

As the dream thus presents a realization, it is naturally 
a realization of some trend in the mind. Admittedly, 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 109 

special trends are not often discernible in dream-ideas as 
we see them. But we know the dream transforms by 
symbolizing, and the trends would very probably be dis- 
torted beyond immediate recognition. Two cases in 
which it was not beyond recognition may be given. 
Since they contain identifying data, it is necessary to 
disguise them somewhat. 16 

(General waking situation: Dreamer has thought of 
going to New York by a train called " The Owl," but 
finally buys a ticket for the " Paul Revere Express.") 
Dream : Passing along the station platform he sees a train 
in all respects identified with the " Owl," having the cars 
and engine which distinguish it, but designated by no name, 
and not on the track from which the " Owl " regularly 
leaves. This train is now felt to compare very favorably 
with the " Paul Revere Express," and regret is felt that the 
dreamer is not going on it. Later, and apparently nearer 
the waking state, the actual situation is felt to be far prefer- 
able. Later still, when nearly awake, the train is identified 
to awareness with the name of " The Owl." The " Paul 
Revere Express " was continually present as such during 
the dream, with no symbolic distortion. 

This dream is interesting as showing, in regard to the 
" Owl," the beginning of a symbolic distortion not yet 
developed far enough to make the symbol unrecognizable. 
The train seen on the platform is the " Owl " in all of 
many distinguishing particulars, except name and track. 
It is hardly a symbolism, but it shows an early stage of 
the process by which symbolism may take place. 

August Hoch has modified Freud's statement to say 
that the dream represents " a difficult situation with an 

16 A hint of this disguise is derivable from the following bon mot 
of the Lustige Blaetter: " Sehen sie, Hebe Freundin, das ganze 
Leben gleicht einem Bahnhof. Alles hastet an einander vorbei. 
Jedem ist's Wurscht wo die anderen hingehen. Und wenn man 
endlich einmal glucklich eingestiegen ist. sitzt man — im falschen 
Zug!" 



110 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

attempt at adjustment/' This is certainly true of many 
dreams; it is not impossibly true of dreams in general. 
But the dream is content to offer very childish adjust- 
ments, of which the following is an example : 

Dreamer hurries to catch the train to Fitchburg, but on 
arriving at the station finds that a friend who was going on 
that train is not on the platform ; the train has apparently 
gone. The station-agent is near by, and the dreamer in- 
quires of him, but that official refuses to tell him whether 
the train has gone. It is of importance for the dreamer to 
reach the train, and this attitude on the part of the station- 
agent annoys him greatly, with the result that he begins to 
awake. At this point there comes over the dreamer a dis- 
tinct feeling of desire that the station-agent should refuse 
to answer the question ; for, if he tells the dreamer the train 
has gone, there will no longer be any chance of his reaching 
it, but, if the dreamer can keep from knowing that it has 
gone, he may be able to catch it after all. 

This shows in elementary form the common human 
frailty of shutting one's eyes to truth with the idea of 
preventing it from affecting one. It is a side of autistic 
thinking that we have had to discard in living by experi- 
ence. The dream makes continual use of reasoning like 
this. 

The sum of evidence hardly warrants the supposition 
that all dream-symbolisms occur because the things sym- 
bolized are unpleasant. It is much more likely that the 
dream-state has, as such, the property to represent ideas 
to awareness in symbolic form. Silberer supports a con- 
ception of this kind. Of drowsiness symbolisms he 
says : 

These auto-symbolic phenomena appeared as fatigue- 
phenomena, and as a reversion from a more difficult mode 
of thinking to an easier and more primitive one. 17 

17 "Phantasie u. Mythos," Jahrb. f. psa. u. psp. Forsch. II (1910), 
605. Quoted by Pfister. 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 111 

Elsewhere he says: 

If we examine the evolution of the symbol, we see the 
symbol appear when the mind of man reaches out for an 
idea that is still beyond its power to grasp. 18 We also see 
the symbol appear when a previously higher intellectual 
faculty is lowered (as in dreams and mental disease). In 
both cases the mind loses the grasp of the idea in. its higher 
[more abstract] form, and retains only that of a lower 
[more " tangible/' symbolic] representative. . . . The spe- 
cial service of Freud, Jung, and their followers has lain 
partly in demonstrating the influence of the affective life in 
bringing about this " apperceptive insufficiency " of the 
mind. 19 

It is a common saying that if one is hungry one dreams 
of sumptuous fare, and, if thirsty, of a cooling draught 
presented to the lips. Sometimes, on being about to 
taste, the illusion disappears, and the sleeper wakes. 
Sometimes the action will be carried out, and the dreamer 
will enjoy the hallucinatory experience. It seems worth 
while to raise the question whether it is not a general 
rule for the dream to satisfy any direct organic needs 
that come thus into its consciousness. If the dreamer 
feels a physiological thirst, the dream can always supply 
water to quench it. But if such a desire is present in 
the dream and not satisfied by the dream, this is perhaps 
a proof that the desire in question does not represent the 
sensation of an organic need, but is a symbolic repre- 
sentation of another need. The writer has quoted else- 
where a dream of standing on a mountain side down 
which flows a gushing waterfall ; the dreamer is thirsty, 
but does not drink. The suggestion is made that, if it 
were a real organic thirst, he would drink. The fact 

18 The representation of deity in the guise of man, animals, or 
monsters, is presumably an example of his contention. 

19 " Ueber die Symbolbildung," Jahrb. f. psa. u. psp. Forsch. Ill 
(1912), 675, 681. (Matter in brackets inserted by author.) 



112 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

that he does not drink is evidence that the thirst is sym- 
bolic of another longing that is not so simply satisfied, 
and against which other trends in the personality are 
powerfully opposed. 

Like the delusions of mental disease (p. 211), the 
dream persistently goes contrary to the aims and wishes 
of the waking or dreaming consciousness. One is forced 
to conclude that the dream may be determined by 
trends that are not a part of the waking or dreaming 
consciousness. It is because of such trends that the 
dreamer is prevented from satisfying his symbolic thirst. 
There would be no opposition to satisfying an actual one ; 
we saw in Chapter II that internal conflict does not ap- 
preciably affect such a trend as this. 

In summary, the principal points to be noted in regard 
to dream-symbolism are: (1) It is sometimes but not 
commonly traceable through direct awareness of the 
thing symbolized. (2) The symbols may stand in any 
associative connection with their originals, and this con- 
nection does not need to be reasonably apparent. (3) 
The chief reason why symbolism plays its part in dreams 
is supposed by some to be because the ideas symbolized 
would themselves be incompatible with the continuance 
of sleep. (4) Such ideas concern affectful experiences 
and trends of which the subject may be aware, but is not 
necessarily so. (5) They may concern trends of early 
life which are no longer present to the waking conscious- 
ness. (6) When the dream deals with material of this 
sort, it regularly depicts some kind of adjustment of the 
trend, though often quite an absurd one by waking stand- 
ards. (7) Most dream-symbolism is preferably regarded 
as the result of simpler and less critical modes of asso- 
ciation among ideas than obtain in waking life. This 



SYMBOLIC ASSOCIATION 113 

obviates the necessity of supposing a strong emotion back 
of the symbol. (8) If a simple organic need is repre- 
sented in the dream without being satisfied by the dream, 
this is prima facie evidence that the craving is symbolic 
of some other trend, which has strong counter-trends op- 
posed to it. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 

If I see a beautiful painting, my eyes perceive a com- 
plex of colors and more or less familiar outlines. At 
the same time I experience a feeling of pleasure, which 
is aroused by the experience of the painting, just as my 
visual perceptions are aroused. I may move nearer the 
painting, so as to get a better view of it; that is my motor 
reaction to seeing the picture. The feeling of pleasure 
manifests my affective reaction to seeing it. \ similar 
affective reaction occurs if I think of some beau.tul view 
or other pleasant experience. Mental activity, whether 
of perception or imagination, is in some degree pleasant 
and unpleasant. These feelings of pleasantness and un- 
pleasantness are called affects. I have a pleasant affect 
on looking at the beautiful picture. 

In other words, the sight of the picture is associated 
with a pleasant affect. This association of particular af- 
fects with different experiences is to a large extent 
common to all men. The taste of sugar is pleasant to 
people in general; that of quinine is unpleasant. Such 
pervasive associations of certain affects with certain per- 
ceptions is to be mainly accounted for by natural selec- 
tion. The organism to which beneficial situations are 
also pleasant has a better chance of survival. But among 
human beings there are also great differences in the af- 
fects associated with similar perceptions. What is en- 

114 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 115 

joyable to one may be indifferent or abhorrent to another. 
A person's affective reactions are not even constant. To 
see the happiness of others is pleasant to us when we also 
are happy; too often unpleasant to us when we are not so. 
Thus a perception or idea is not always associated with 
the same affect. A given perception or idea may be very 
closely associated with a certain affect. But that affect 
is not an inherent part of the perception or idea. It is 
not inseparable from them. 

No one knows, and few care, why Peter likes his steak 
rare and Paul likes it well done; why John buys no red 
neckties and James buys no other. None of these pref- 
erences is of much significance for life. We accept them 
with a non est disputandum. More significant are cases 
in which the affects are out of proportion, or even op- 
posed to, the affect common in norm;il persons. A man 
may dislike cracken or parsnips so strongly that he does 
not tolerate rh r m as an article of food. A woman may 
collapse in terror at the sight of a small and harmless 
domestic animal. We have here a disorder of the af- 
fective reaction which interferes more or less seriously 
with meeting the ordinary demands of existence. The 
disharmonies we shall discuss are principally like those 
quoted, in which a greater affective value (pleasant or 
unpleasant) becomes attached to a situation normally 
more indifferent. When an abnormal degree of affect 
is thus associated with an experience, it is called affective 
displacement. 

The above examples might be produced by two kinds 
of affective displacement. The first type of affective 
displacement occurs when a general mood of happiness 
gives to ordinary occurrences its own happy coloring. 
Any underlying mood can thus distort, for better or 



116 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

worse, the affective value of whatever situations arise 
while it persists. Besides its frequent manifestations in 
normal life, it is evident in the psychoses. Mild manic 
and general paralytic cases in early stages show under- 
lying happy states. By virtue of such a condition, a mild 
manic case was able to bear up exceptionally well under 
a severe bereavement. Underlying states of melancholy 
are seen in the depressions. The apathy of dementia 
praecox toward the outside world makes important occa- 
sions indifferent. This is affective displacement of the 
general type. 

Another general source of affective displacements must 
be briefly considered. If, in the upper layers of society, 
bitter personal enemies meet at a social function, they 
are apt to comport themselves with the appearance of nor- 
mal friendship. Social etiquette demands that their an- 
tagonisms be put aside. If the hostess suffer from vio- 
lent headache, or have a special personal sorrow, it is her 
duty to conceal it, presenting only her gayest demeanor 
to her guests. In their beginning, such dissimulations 
may be artificial and voluntary; the person knows and 
wills their occurrence. But the " society smile " is not 
necessarily a voluntary one. A gradual habit of reacting 
in the prescribed way develops, by which the natural 
affect is automatically covered by the opposite one. 
Then we have what may be called affective compensation. 
The social conventions are like the sheet of tissue paper, 
which, if placed over a red and gray card, causes the 
gray portion to appear of the color opposite, or comple- 
mentary, to the red. There appears on the surface of 
character the opposite emotion from that naturally be- 
longing to the personal situation. Human character is 
frequently marked by affective compensations of this 



THE CONTINUITY OP EMOTION 117 

kind, in which there is no voluntary or recognized sub- 
stitution of the opposite affect. The hypocritical Peck- 
sniff comes in time to believe his own affectations of vir- 
tue, and may do so from the outset. " The flatterer," 
writes Pfister, " conceals through toadying character an 
evil disposition." Dickens gives us another fine 
type, particularly where he brings to the surface the 
deeper self-love, elsewhere compensated in self-abase- 
ment. 

" I am well aware that I am the umblest person going, 
... let the other be where he may. My mother is like- 
wise a very umble person. We live in a umble abode, 
Master Copperfield, but we have much to be thankful for. 
. . ." [Chapter 16.] " And having such a knowledge of 
our own umbleness, we must really take care that we're 
not pushed to the wall by them as isn't umble. . . . ' Be 
umble/ says father, * and you'll do !' ... I am very umble 
to the present moment, Master Copperfield, but I've got a 
little power!" [Chapter 39.] "Umble! I've umbled 
some of 'em for a pretty long time back, umble as I was ! " 
[Chapter 52.] 

Again, to shield tender and sensitive feelings in one's 
nature there may grow up a defensive wall of brusque- 
ness, as the armor grows upon a crustacean to shield the 
vulnerable portions from injury. Prudishness, combined 
as it so often is with marked autoerotism, is another of 
these compensatory reactions. Still another is shown 
by the person who suffers great affliction in life, yet whose 
wit is the life and soul of his company. This feature 
has been thought, not without reason, to have its patho- 
logical analogue in certain manic states. There a mood 
of extreme joviality may ensue upon circumstances not 
at all calculated to give rise to happiness in normal per- 
sons. Where, on the other hand, there is a definite dis- 



118 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

ease process, one has always to reckon with specific 
poisons as a source of the " euphoria," or sense of well- 
being. Thus the exaggerated well-being of general 
paralysis, though in the presence of serious illness, 
should not be regarded in the same light as these " af- 
fective compensations." This seems also true of the 
spes phthisica (optimism of the consumptive), though 
Hart cites it as a probable instance of affective compensa- 
tion. If the displaced happiness of tuberculous patients 
were mainly a compensatory reaction to the gravity of 
the disease, we should expect chronic diseases in general 
to show it as fully. More probably the tuberculous poi- 
sons themselves have a specific role in this euphoria, like 
the euphoria of alcoholic intoxication, only less pro- 
nounced and more lasting. 

The whole process is summed up by Hart as " the ex- 
aggerated appearance in the superficial layers of the mind 
of the opposite quality " to that properly belonging to 
the " complex." The pertinent point is that this exag- 
geration of the opposite need not be a studied dissimula^ 
tion on the part of the individual. It exists, and very 
likely originates, outside the field of awareness and in- 
sight. 

Buried eroticism comes to the surface in the guise of 
fear; we shall meet some examples of this. Adler has 
built an entire psychology of the neuroses upon affective 
compensation. He interprets neurotic manifestations 
as miscarried endeavors of the personality to compensate 
for feelings of inferiority. As the timid man whistles 
to keep up his courage, so would the personality of the 
neurotic overlay the feeling of inferiority with a tinsel 
of confidence or self-esteem. The symptoms represent 
a superficial show of impudence, foolhardiness, or obsti- 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 119 

nacy, overlying a fundamental timidity, shyness, and de- 
pendence. 1 

There is no more important element in the diagnosis 
of character than to distinguish whether a marked trait 
in the observed person is compensatory, or fundamental. 

We are to be concerned here with the more specific 
types of affective displacement. Their origin is less evi- 
dent at first sight. They are exemplified by my friend's 
very individual and marked aversion to eating chicken, 
or by resistances which I experienced in 1903 toward 
visiting the Englischer Garten in Munich. In the midst 
of what is otherwise an at least passably well ordered 
affective life, there crop out these useless, and at times 
quite inconvenient, disharmonies of affect with situation. 
There is no general underlying mood on which they are 
based. Common examples from normal life are the pho- 
bias for various harmless organisms, like caterpillars, 
toads, spiders, cats, and also snakes (where there is no 
knowledge of their possible harmfulness). One may 
show inordinate anger at losing a game upon which noth- 
ing is staked; or at some (really very good) advertise- 
ments of a popular chewing-gum; or resistances toward 
reading a certain magazine. The displaced affect at- 
taches specifically to a single, or to a very small range of 
topics. An unprejudiced observer will usually be able to 
multiply such examples from his own experience. 2 

1 Adler, Monats f. Pad. u. Schulpolitik (1910) , H. 9. (Ref. Pfister.) 

2 We have already demonstrated transplantations of feeling in con- 
siderable number. In the previous section we spoke of pleasures in 
astronomy, stamp-collecting, "nature-healing," affection for a nurse, 
which were all exaggerated, that is, not to be explained by the in- 
trinsic value of the object. Previously we had learned to know 
Scheffel's Ekkehard as a remedy for hiccoughs; washing became a 
great state function ; machines, horses, the nose, the legs of pigeons 
and of children took on the character of frightful objects; a rubber 
tire and the nipple of a pump were endowed with an irrestible attrac- 



120 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

These disharmonies of affect with apparent situation 
are also quite marked in dreams. The most frequent 
seem to be those in which profound emotion is aroused 
by apparently trivial occurrences. A characteristic in- 
stance was quoted in a previous chapter (p. 101), where 
the intense anger at an inconsequential lapse of memory 
was sufficient to awaken the sleeper. Two others are the 
following : 

Dream, shortly after the sinking of the Lusitania, and 
the night after mislaying a cap: A large ocean liner, not 
clearly the Lusitania, is nearing port, but damaged and sink- 
ing, (not clearly) through a torpedo. Dreamer, with 
others, wishes to leave the ship, but is prevented from doing 
so by having lost his cap. Rushes in trepidation to his state- 
room to hunt for it ; can no longer find his stateroom. Con- 
scious of having plenty of other headgear, but must have 
this particular piece. At conclusion, the ship is very near 
to land, even between the harbor docks, and there is no 
longer pressing necessity for leaving it. 

Dream, spring of 191 1 : Dreamer is visiting a colleague, 
R., who is something of a bibliophile. R. leaves the room 
for a moment, and dreamer glances through one of his 
books. At first this seems to be an account of banking 
methods of a century ago, but transforms into an account 
of the vengeance taken by a man (who thought he had been 
defrauded by another of a sum of money) upon the latter's 
family. This consists in administering to them a compound 
consisting of " some black substance, arsenic and sand," 
which causes them all to expire in great pain. The margins 
of the pages bear grotesquely appropriate illustrations, one 
of them a skeleton vomiting. A state of nightmare Angst 
supervenes during the reading of this passage, and subsides 
without the dreamer's waking, as R. reenters. Dreamer 
hands the book to R., with words like, " This is about the 
limit," to which R. makes a smiling half-assent. After a 
few other episodes, the dreamer wakes, the Angst having 
entirely subsided. 

tion ; a kitten and a gas-mantle compulsively stimulated the desire to 
attack; the figure of Christ . . . became surrounded with tremendous 
feeling, and later indifferent again. Pfister, D. psa. Met., 176. 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 121 

In explanation of these common affective displacements 
in dreams it has been suggested that they are based on a 
general loss of the standards of affective response which 
govern our waking life. This does not seem the best ex- 
planation, because the affective life of dreams is not a 
generally disordered one. Regularly we react to the nat- 
ural events of dream life as we would to the natural events 
of waking life. When there is such affective displace- 
ment in a dream, it regularly refers to some narrow, 
specific topic, as in the first dream above to the loss of the 
cap, in the second to the contents of the book. These 
emotional displacements stand out so unquestionably just 
because the affective life of dreams is not generally differ- 
ent from that of waking life. 

In the second chapter we saw that play on the sound 
of words, which is represented in the conduct of the 
savage, in the ideas of children, in the symbols of our 
dreams, and in shaping the delusions of mental disease, 
also develops a special kind of wit in the form of the 
pun. Affective displacement, likewise traceable in normal 
life, in dreams and in the psychoses, develops, when arti- 
ficially employed, another and higher type of wit. Satire, 
and its lesser brethren, irony, travesty and parody, are 
the children of affective displacement. 

In the Lilliput and Laputa of Swift, the satire consists 
in giving to trivial ideas an air of consequence and 
solemnity. Rabelais, on the other hand, tends more to 
satirize the pompous and self-sufficient by representing it 
in comic and ridiculous terms. The scheme of satirical 
wit is to present a mental content ordinarily associated 
with one kind of emotion, but in such a form as to arouse 
with it the opposite emotion. Thus Lanigan's well- 
known " Threnody/' concerning the death of a potentate 



122 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

called the Ahkoond of Swat, has the elegiac meter, and ioi 
the most part elegiac diction, but displaces the naturally 
tragic note through an interspersal of puns, in the follow- 
ing manner : 

. . . For the Ahkoond I mourn, 

Who wouldn't? 
He strove to disregard the message stern, 

But he Ahkood n't. . . . 

Tears shed, tears shed like water, 
Your great Ahkoond is dead! 
That Swats the matter! . . . 

He sees with larger, other eyes 

Athwart all earthly mysteries — 
He knows what's Swat. 

The conventional parody takes something associated 
with respectful emotions, preserves enough of its form to 
clearly suggest this original, and introduces elements that, 
like the puns above, arouse humorous feelings. Thus the 
verse form of Hiawatha has lent itself largely to parody 
such as the well known one of Mudjokivis and the 
mittens. 

Music, as well as language- forms, serves as the original 
for parody. Parodies in the form of music can be ap- 
preciated only by the very musical, but an effectively witty 
displacement can often be made from emotional music by 
trivial words attached to it. Thus the nonsense quatrains 
" I'd rather have fingers than toes " and " I wish that my 
room had a floor," gain distinctly in humorous value 
through being set to the hymn-tune of " St. Denis " 
("Heirs of unending life"). Another nonsense stanza 
(" See those two ducks at play ") has grown up about the 
tune of "Moscow" ("Come Thou Almighty King"). 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 123 

% e most familiar motive from " Carmen " has been set 
to some doggerel beginning : 

Toreador, he smoka da bum cigar 
Standa on da corner, hoppa on da car, etc. 

This interchange of the sublime and the ridiculous is 
what constitutes wit through affective displacement. In 
mv.st direct parodies, like the above instances from Hi- 
awatha, the original element is the sublime, and the dis- 
placing element is the ridiculous. A further example is 
the pidgin English version of " Excelsior." Though the 
result is the same, it is a somewhat different mode of trav- 
esty to start with a trivial episode and clothe it in digni- 
fied phraseology. This is the same difference above noted 
between Swift and Rabelais. 

Stephen Leacock is a prose master of such wit through 
indifferent situation and affectful response. 

I passed a flower in my walk today. It grew in the 
meadow beside the river bank. It stood dreaming on a long 
stem. I knew its name. It was a Tchupvskja. I love 
beautiful names. I leaned over and spoke to it. I asked 
it if my heart would ever know love. It said it thought so. 
On my way home I passed an onion. It lay upon the road. 
Someone had stepped upon its stem and crushed it. How 
it must have suffered. I placed it in my bosom. All 
night it lay beside my pillow . . . Today in my walk I 
found a cabbage. It lay in a corner of the hedge. Cruel 
boys had chased it there with stones. It was dead when 
I lifted it up. Beside it was an egg. It too was dead. 
Ah, how I wept. . . . ("Nonsense Novels," 116-117, 
119.) 

The " Little Willie " verses which enjoyed a recent 
popularity are probably the simplest form in which the 
mechanism of affective displacement has ever served the 
ends of wit. They consist uniformly in depicting a tragic 



124 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

situation with an indifferent or comic reaction to it. The 
following are familiar examples : 3 

Willie hung his baby sister, 
She was dead before we missed her. 
" Willie's always up to tricks ! 
Ain't he cute ? He's only six ! " 

Willie fell down the elevator ; 
He wasn't found till two weeks later. 
All the neighbors said, " Gee whiz ! 
What a spoiled child Willie is ! " 

This artificial displacement of affect is decidedly the 
chief mental mechanism of wit. We have illustrated the 
natural occurrences of affective displacement in normal 
life, and in dreams, and have mentioned it in the 
psychoses. We saw that these displacements were some- 
times explicable on the ground of underlying moods like 
elation or melancholy. But we found other instances in 
which this facile interpretation is clearly impossible. The 
intense distaste for eating chicken, the aversion to the 
Englischer Garten, my marked prejudice in favor of 
any one who has a certain manner of speech, and all such 
specific likes and dislikes, must have originated in mental 
events bearing specifically upon the ideas with which they 
are associated. 

For example, my friend's aversion to eating chicken 
originates with an unpleasant experience which he had 
with one of the species in early childhood. The writer 
had no aversion to the Englischer Garten as a small child, 
until one day some one to whom he was attached nearly 
incurred arrest by picking for him a verboten flower that 
he wanted. When next to be taken to the Englischer 

3 A collection of such verses bears the title, " Ruthless Rhymes for 
Heartless Homes." Eugene Field's "A Little Peach in the Orchard 
Grew," is a more classical example of this type of displacement. 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 125 

Garten he objected, suppressing the reason, reluctantly 
admitting the truth of the Gouvemantes surmise: 
" Weil man da nicht Blumen pfluecken darff " This 
was the origin of a resistance which was still operative 
on revisiting Munich some thirteen years later, and 
through which the place seemed the more appreciated upon 
rediscovery. A prejudice against a young and popular 
acquaintance is based upon the fact that superficially her 
appearance brought to mind a boy of far from admirable 
character, whom the writer knew as a child. The preju- 
dice in favor of people with a certain brogue originates 
with very good friends who have this accent. Walter 
Dill Scott describes how he greatly enjoyed some indiffer- 
ent stories read during the playing of music of which he 
was especially fond. He termed it a " fusion " of the af- 
fects associated with the songs and the stories. (His 
practical application of the process was the principle of 
never allowing to creep into an advertisement matter that 
in any way brings an unpleasant feeling to the reader. 
For, no matter what the logical relation is, e. g., insects 
trying in vain to get inside a food package, the unpleasant 
feeling will " fuse " with the idea of the food, and make 
the whole memory of the advertised article an unpleasant 
one. One should rather group pleasant associations 
about the article, as pictures of persons greatly enjoying 
the food.) 

The general fact which these cases illustrate is as fol- 
lows: If an experience is associated with a pronounced 
affect or emotion, of whatever character, that affect or 
emotion will tend to become associated also with other 
experiences themselves connected with the first experi- 
ence. Because my friend had an unpleasant experience 
connected with a chicken, he now dislikes chicken as food. 



126 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Because the writer had an unpleasant experience associ- 
ated with the Englischer Garten, he many years later felt 
a distaste for going there. Because the child has once 
made himself sick with walnuts, he has a persistent aver- 
sion to eating walnuts thereafter. Thus the affective 
displacements in the reactions to the chicken, to the Eng- 
lischer Garten, to Miss X, to persons with a certain 
dialect, and to the songs, are a " transference " from a 
related and originally affect ful experience. These trans- 
ferences have been observed in different settings, and dif- 
ferent names applied to them. Scott called it fusion; 
Ferenczi and others, dealing with its pathology, have 
called it Uebertragung, from which American writers 
have taken the term transference. The original experi- 
ence may be said to " load " 4 associated ideas with an 
affect that does not properly belong to them. My later 
visit to the foreign park, objectively indifferent, is 
" loaded " with unpleasant affect, derived from an un- 
pleasant experience in connection with this park many 
years before. 

Thus one way in which affective displacement may oc- 
cur is through loading from unpleasant original experi- 
ences. Somewhat as an intensely hot or cold object will 
heat or cool objects around it, so will intense emotion as- 
sociated with an idea radiate emotion to ideas associated 
with it. 

The simplest way in which such transference could take 
place would be this. When the idea of revisiting the 
Englischer Garten comes up, it calls to mind the previous 
experience, and this arouses, in connection with itself, its 
unpleasant affect. There is no reason why this should 
not happen in any such case. It probably happens in very 
4 Cf. Pfister, " Gef uhlsbetestvmg," D. psa. Met., 173. 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 127 

few. The visit to the Englischer Garten was unpleasantly 
anticipated without any immediate awareness of the pre- 
vious visit, though of course it did from time to time 
come to mind. The prejudice against Miss X. was evi- 
dent some weeks before its unquestionable origin became 
clear to the writer. Although in these cases the original 
experience still comes to awareness, it need not do so. 
The loaded affect is manifest without any immediate 
awareness of its original source. 

Unquestionably there are many other cases of " un- 
reasonable " likes and dislikes, for which no such originat- 
ing experience can be recalled at all : 

I do not love thee, Dr. Fell, 
The reason why I cannot tell. 

This opens the question, whether the dislike of Dr. Fell 
is to be traced to an unpleasant experience, say, of some 
person who looks like Dr. Fell, even though one has no 
longer any awareness of such experience. We know that 
there does not need to be any immediate memory of the 
original experience, for affects loaded from it to persist. 
Need there be any awareness-memory of it at all? 

In answer, there is good evidence that this loading or 
transference of affects occurs, when the original experi- 
ence of it has been, in the accepted sense of the words, 
completely forgotten. A mental impression is said to be 
forgotten, when it can no longer be brought to awareness ; 
when it is no longer one of the ideas which form our 
conscious knowledge; when it can no longer be aroused 
as a part of what Janet and Prince have called our per- 
sonal consciousness. Now, as we shall later see more 
fully, there are some mental conditions (such as hypnosis, 
and the passive states favorable to psychoanalysis), in 



128 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

which things can be remembered, which are forgotten to 
the ordinary waking life. By penetrating to these inac- 
cessible stores of memory, it has been possible to identify 
forgotten experiences, from which ideas that should have 
been indifferent in daily life were still being "loaded." 
An instructive example is the following, given by Tait : 

A subject had an intense and unmotivated dislike of the 
color brown. He was instructed to start with the idea 
brown, and to write words at the rate of forty per minute, 
to the beats of a metronome. At the twenty-ninth and 
thirtieth beats came a block, with no words written. 
Then starting again with the word brown, there came, 
after about thirty words, the last few of which deal with 
a recent dissecting room episode, the following succession : 

Sore, blow, strike, wound, die, man, strike, jaw, blood, red, 
dark, red, brown, blood, man, strike, fall, back, blood. . . . 

At this point there comes back to the subject a hitherto 
lost memory of a head-injury with bleeding, that had oc- 
curred m childhood, and which is described in some de- 
tail. There is no reason to question Tait's interpreta- 
tion that the horror of the reddish-brown blood seen at 
that time radiated through later life over brown colors in 
general. In certain color-experiments this subject notes 
that a feeling of hatred accompanied the remembrance of 
the browns, " which spread itself over the whole experi- 
ment with colors. ,, But the original association of brown 
and unpleasantness had been buried out of memory. A 
special procedure was necessary to bring it back. 

A case described by Morton Prince had a phobia for 
towers and church steeples, especially those in which bells 
might ring. As in the previous case, no associations to 
explain the anomalous emotion were present to ordinary 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 129 

awareness. Memories elicited under hypnotic conditions 
threw no light upon its origin. It was finally determined 
through the medium of automatic writing. While the 
patient was under hypnosis, narrating some irrelevant 
memories of her mother, her hand, into which a pencil 
had been put, wrote rapidly : 

" G. . . . M. , . . church and my father took my mother 
to Bi . . . where she died and we went to Br . . . and 
they cut my mother. I prayed and cried all the time that 
she would live and the church bells were always ringing and 
I hated them." 

She wept while writing, but did not know why, nor 
what her hand had written. After coming out of the 
hypnosis, the patient was questioned as to the events re- 
ferred to in the writing. A clear account of them was 
given, not accompanied by special emotion, nor in the 
childish phraseology of the writing. 

Her mother, who was seriously ill, was taken to a great 
surgeon to be operated upon. . . . The chimes in the tower 
of the church, which was close to her hotel, sounded every 
quarter hour; they got on her [the daughter's] nerves; she 
hated them ; she could not bear to hear them ; and while she 
was praying they added to her anguish. Ever since this 
time the ringing of bells has continued to cause a feeling 
of anguish. . . . She could not explain why she had never 
before connected her phobia with the episode she had de- 
scribed. 

This case, like that of Tait, presents an affectful re- 
action to a properly indifferent stimulus, with a definite, 
though forgotten, mental cause. It brings out more 
clearly an additional feature of interest. " So long as 
the memories were described from the viewpoint of the 
matured adult personal consciousness, there was no emo- 
tion." In the " adult personal consciousness " the epi- 
sode in which the phobia originated is not loaded with 
10 



130 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

affect; bell-towers are so loaded. The affect originally 
associated with the experience has apparently left it. It 
has now no abnormal emotion for waking awareness. It 
is " de-emotionalized/' as Ernest Jones suggests. The 
emotion has been transferred, veritably " siphoned " from 
the original ideas connected with the mother's illness, to 
the idea of towers in which bells may ring. 5 The original 
idea is drained dry of the affect with which the properly 
indifferent one is "loaded." Affective transference can 
thus go to much greater lengths than the simple " fusion " 
described by Scott. We can no longer use the simile of 
a body radiating its temperature to its surroundings. It 
is a complete Uebertragung ("carrying-over"), which 
empties of affect the primary idea, and loads the secondary 
one. 

From the outset we have regarded affects as independ- 
ent mental processes. They are associated with ideas and 
perceptions by the same principles of association that bind 
ideas and perceptions to the motor discharges of vol- 
untary behavior. In this way, the affect related to some 
definite experience could naturally become associated with 
perceptions and ideas related to that experience. 

The essential thing is to conceive the emotional pro- 
cess as a reaction. When we perceive an emotion, we 
perceive a physiological process ; but opinions differ as to 
its nature. The James-Lange theory suggested changes 
outside the nervous substance, as in the blood-vessels or 
glands. A strong objection to the latter view has lately 
been brought forward by the work of Cannon, who finds 
that the glandular accompaniments of varying emotions, 
such as fear or anger, do not essentially differ. There is 

5 Prince follows it through many intermediary ideas, which need 
not be gone into here. Cf. " The Unconscious," 389ft. 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 131 

a further objection to supposing that the process we per- 
ceive in emotion is a vasomotor one. The time requisite 
for vasomotor responses is about two seconds. If the 
emotion is the perception of this vasomotor activity, it 
should require at least two seconds to perceive an emotion, 
after the thing arousing the emotion is presented. Naka- 
shima 6 appears to have found the actual time required for 
the perception of an emotion to be less than this, 7 and 
not much greater than the time required for reacting to 
the sensation. Blue would thus take only a little longer 
time to look pleasant than it does to look blue. This is in 
further accord with the view of Cannon, that when we 
perceive an emotion, what we perceive is something going 
on in nerve-centers. The feeling of pleasantness is the 
awareness of a certain central process, as much as the 
image of one's breakfast table is the awareness of another 
process in the brain. This central process is the emo- 
tional reaction. 

The burnt child dreads the fire; that is, having once 
been hurt by the heat of the flame, he is later frightened 
by the perception of its light. Throughout mental phe- 
nomena there obtains such a principle, that a reaction 
proper to a certain (primary) stimulus, may later be 
aroused by another (secondary) stimulus, which second- 
ary stimulus has been in some particular association with 
the primary one. The application of this principle to 
emotional reactions is what we are calling affective trans- 
ference. Let us follow it quickly through some of its 
other manifestations, as studied in the laboratories of the 
Russian investigators, Pawlow and von Bechterew. 

6 Am. J. Psych., 20 (1909), 187-193; Psychol. Rev. 16 (1909), 303- 
339- 

7 Cf. also von Bechterew, Objektive Psychologie (1913), no. 



132 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

If one administers to an animal an acid-tasting sub- 
stance producing directly a salivary reflex, and at the 
same time shows the animal a flash of light for example, 
later on the flash of light alone will suffice to elicit the 
salivary reaction. If the prick of a needle has elicited the 
reflex withdrawal of the hand, then a simple touch, pre- 
viously ineffective, will also elicit the withdrawal. If one 
receives an electric stimulus eliciting the plantar reflex and 
at the same time is given a color-stimulus, later on the 
color-stimulus alone will elicit the plantar reflex. The 
same is found for responses that are not reflex, but con- 
ventionalized. If bending the finger is required as re- 
sponse to a given light, and this light is combined with 
a certain sound, the sound itself will come to induce the 
bending of the finger. Or the sound may be used as the 
primary stimulus, and then, a secondary light-stimulus 
being combined with it, the light-stimulus alone will in- 
duce the bending of the finger. Here the association be- 
tween the light and sound stimuli (by which they induce 
the same reaction) is established through their simultane- 
ous occurrence. But a less direct association may also be 
effective. The regular finger-response to a rhythmical 
sound may, after the cessation of the sound-stimulus, be 
again elicited by lights which are associated with the 
sound-stimulus simply in that they follow the rhythm of 
the sound, (von Bechterew.) 

Responses which the associated secondary stimulus has 
thus derived from the primary stimulus are called condi- 
tioned or associative responses. 

In affective transference it is an emotional reaction that 
is substituted for the glandular one in the case of the sali- 
vary response, or the voluntary reaction in the case of the 
bending of the finger. There are, however, two rather 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 133 

noteworthy differences between the conditioned motor 
responses just cited and the conditioned responses of 
affective transference. Von Bechterew makes the point 
that the responses which are made to the secondary stim- 
ulus alone do not, as a rule, reach the intensity of the 
responses made to the primary stimulus. Thus, the effect 
on breathing, of a light-stimulus secondarily associated 
with a sound, is less pronounced than the effect on breath- 
ing of the primary sound-stimulus. This rule does not 
obtain in affective transference. We saw that the origi- 
nally affectful memories (primary stimulus) in the bell- 
tower case had lost their affect, were " de-ernotionalized " 
(p. 130). Their affect had been siphoned to bell- 
towers (secondary stimulus). In these siphoning pro- 
cesses the primary experience is drained of its affect and 
the secondary experience becomes loaded with the entire 
emotional response originally attaching to the primary ex- 
perience. Indeed, it is not impossible that there are ac- 
cessions to the original affect; so that the secondary ex- 
perience now carries more affect than ever attached to the 
original one. 

Again, to establish a conditioned response in the above 
motor fields, a certain amount of drilling appears neces- 
sary. The secondary stimulus is systematically combined 
with the primary one, five, ten, twenty or more times, 
in order to establish conditioned responses to the second- 
ary stimulus. 8 This seems much less the case with af- 
fective transference. Scott enjoyed his stories immedi- 
ately on hearing them with the liked music. Tait's case 
did not require a series of bloody head-injuries to implant 
a dislike of brown colors. As the child need be burned 

8 Watson, " The Place of the Conditioned Reflex in Psychology," 
Psychol. Rev. 23 (1916), 96-97. 



134 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

by the fire only once to dread it, so there may be a pro- 
nounced transfer of likes and dislikes to secondary stim- 
uli, though these have been but infrequently or remotely 
associated with original, primary ones. 

Both the above points indicate that the principles of as- 
sociation do not in themselves cover the facts of affec- 
tive transference. In the first place, they would simply 
endow the loaded, secondary experience with the same 
kind of affect as was carried by the primary, originating 
experience. They would not provide for the siphoning 
process, in which the loaded experience has a greater de- 
gree of this affect than is retained by the originating one. 

In the next place, we saw also in our studies of sym- 
bolic association (Chapter III), that any association 
might give rise to symbolism, but only under certain con- 
ditions was this path taken. In like manner, any path of 
association is also an avenue by which affective reactions 
may invite transfer. But if this path were always open, 
affects would siphon indiscriminately between any asso- 
ciated perceptions, and our emotional life would have no 
stability at all. So that, while the paths of association 
provide ways along which affects are transferred, they 
do not provide the " motive " power which makes the 
transfer. This relation, not well understood, may be 
partially surveyed. 

The " siphoning " of affects is quite frequent in affec- 
tive transference. The memory of the original Eng- 
lischer Garten episode was clearly less unpleasant than the 
transferred resistance to revisiting the place. Tait's case 
had a phobia for brown colors ; not for a barn, for blood, 
or for head-injury. The originating experience had 
been lost; its affect was siphoned into the experience of 
browns. 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 135 

A prime condition of affective siphoning appears to be 
that an original affectful memory fades from awareness. 
As this happens, any associated experience loaded from 
the original experience takes on greater affect in aware- 
ness than now attaches to the original experience. For 
example : the unestimable boy-friend has played no part in 
the writer's life for many years; he was seldom thought 
of, and without special emotion. Now comes the young 
woman resembling him, and lights up an antagonism to 
herself greater than is now felt toward the original, or 
is remembered to have ever been felt. As shown also 
in Tait's case, the affect attaching to an experience fad- 
ing or lost from awareness is in unstable equilibrium. 
It is ready to siphon at once into some associated experi- 
ence that is preserved, like the brown colors in Tait's case, 
the bell-towers in Prince's. In the case of the boy and 
Miss X, the affect siphons into a new experience, in which 
the conditions for associating the experiences are met by 
the resemblance of the two persons. 

Ferenczi calls such affects attaching to lost experiences 
" free-floating," and remarks, in a different terminology, 
that the personality appears not to tolerate such free- 
floating affects; they tend to attach to something else. 
The apparently unmotivated waste of affect is nothing but 
a transference, in which long forgotten psychic experi- 
ences exaggerate the proper reaction. 

The outstanding feature of these affective displace- 
ments is that an experience may fade or be lost from 
awareness, while its affect persists. Apparently, it does 
not necessarily attach to something else that is in aware- 
ness: witness the phobias, which may be intense though 
the sufferer can assign no cause for them. A mental 
cause of which the patient is not aware may afterward be 



136 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

determined. 9 Usually, however, the affect attaches to 
something else which is in awareness. 

On examining the conditions in which affectful mem- 
ories disappear from awareness, one cannot fail to be 
struck by the frequency with which the affects involved 
are of an unpleasant character. Nearly all the instances 
above quoted were of this sort. It does not seem possi- 
ble to escape the conclusion that there is something in the 
very unpleasantness of these ideas that helps their dis- 
appearance from awareness. The psychoanalytic school, 
at least, has made no attempt to escape it ; quite the con- 
trary. One of their fundamental tenets is the repression 
of disagreeable ideas as such. Although the idea be re- 
pressed through its unpleasant affect, the affect itself does' 
not remain submerged. It comes to awareness again, 
" loaded " on to some otherwise indifferent idea. Then 
one naturally would expect that this " loaded ** idea would 
be equally subject to repression for its unpleasantness. A 
great deal of forgetting may be, and has been, interpreted 
as the result of association with unpleasant experiences. 
In the cases of phobias for bell-towers, and for browns, 
however, it is clear that the primary unpleasant experience 
was repressed, but not the " loaded " one. Unpleasant- 
ness may be an important cause of repression, or loss from 
awareness, but it is not, of itself, a sufficient cause. 

This repression of an experience from awareness, with 
the accompanying transfer of its affect to something else, 
accounts especially for the displacement of unpleasant af- 
fects. If a pleasant affect is transferred, there is not 
the same loss of the original memory from awareness. 
One may, indeed, have a feeling of pleasantness while un- 
aware of the underlying cause of this feeling, just as one 
9 Prince, " The Unconscious," 29. 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 137 

may have an unexplained phobia.; but the cases of it are 
not so striking. 

Two characteristic examples of the transference of 
pleasant affects have been cited. The songs and stories 
of Walter Dill Scott, and the pleasure of the writer in 
hearing a certain brogue belong to this class. Here both 
the original and the loaded experience are present to 
awareness. They may be conceived as " fusion " or 
" radiation "of affects, because the pleasantness of the 
loaded experience is not greater than that of the origi- 
nal experience. It is not a siphoning which drains the 
original experience of affect. 

The siphoning of unpleasant affects, being often ac- 
companied by the loss from awareness of what we should 
expect to remember, has perhaps attracted an undue share 
of attention from the siphoning of pleasant affects, which 
is not especially characterized by repression of the original 
experience. When a pleasant affect is siphoned from one 
experience to another, the memory of both is regularly 
retained. In this form, affective transference is one of 
the large dynamic factors in human life. 

To illustrate by a crude but clear example : a young man, 
quoted by Sadger, presented all through his life an intense 
interest for the urinary function. It led him to grotesque 
perversions (e.g., collecting the urine of boys in sponges 
and conveying them to his mouth) ; an especial desire was 
to watch boys urinating. It filled somewhat the same 
place as the sexual interest fills in normal persons. Ex- 
cept for getting food he appeared to have no more funda- 
mental interest. Such a trend is obviously unsuited for 
proper adaptation to life. It has infinite possibilities of 
trouble for him and those who surround him. But, by 
the side of these trends, he showed some others clearly 



188 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

associated with the urinary interest. At the age of two 
and one-half years, his greatest joy was in the indefatig- 
able watering of plants with a little water can he had suc- 
ceeded in begging. At three and one-half years, one of 
his Christmas presents was a longed for toy pump. It 
alone delighted him for the whole evening. At four 
years, he must go to every pump in the watering place his 
family visited, and work it himself. He knew every 
pump in the town : sprinkling carts were another fad. In 
later years came a more serious fondness for every kind 
of aquatic sport ; it especially delighted him to be dashed 
over with spray from a moving boat. Any of these in- 
terests had genuine potential usefulness. They lead to 
success in horticulture, in hydraulic engineering, in navi- 
gation. In a better balanced individual, the abnormal 
interests attaching to urinary functions would be trans- 
ferred to such useful activities as these. Thus Jones 
makes mention of cases in which these and associated 
interests have delevoped into bridge-building, architec- 
ture, sculpture, type moulding, cookery. The difficulty 
with the patient is that no sufficient transfer of this kind 
has taken place. His interests and pleasures have re- 
mained " fixated ,J at infantile stages. They have not 
been outgrown, that is, undergone the normal develop- 
mental transference. 

There is, indeed, no great abnormality about the early 
childhood trends of this patient. In children, the ex- 
cretory functions are an important source of organic 
pleasure, which is by no means always lost in later life. 
Xext to the taking of food it is their most important or- 
ganic satisfaction. Soon they meet the tabu with which 
their elders surround the functions. This reinforces the 
children's natural concern with them, so that the normal 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 139 

interest of children in the excretory functions is no small 
one. While among adults obscene talk usually deals 
with sexual functions, among children it deals rather with 
excretory functions. Orgies of excrementation are de- 
scribed in story and rhyme. They have a never failing 
resource in the sports and variations of the function 
which their ingenuity devises. 

The more mature the mental development, the more 
subdued these interests become, except in isolated cases. 
They are prominent in the obscene talk of uncultivated 
adults, as they are among children, but on higher intel- 
lectual levels they are replaced more and more by sexual 
topics. In conduct, the shifting of interests from the 
excretory to the sexual is distinctly marked. The pleas- 
ures in the excretory functions dwindle or become aver- 
sions, and erotic reactions become a paramount source of 
organic satisfactions. 

It is not a new concept to speak of this as a trans- 
ference of interest from excretory to erotic functions. 10 
If we mean simply that what was formerly an excretory 
interest has now reinforced an erotic one, it needs no 
further elaboration. More is to be said, however, of the 
process by which this takes place. In the cases of affec- 
tive transfer hitherto discussed, we were concerned espe- 
cially with unpleasant affects. We found a tendency to 
load an indifferent situation with an affect, while the 
original one faded from awareness. This had the air 
of a " defense reaction," to keep the unpleasant idea from 
entering awareness, or at least to keep it from entering 
there as unpleasant. One can at least understand this 
as an effort of the mind to free itself from unpleasant 

10 Cf. Pfister, " Umschaltung " or "Transposition," d. psa. Met, 
181. 



140 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

feeling, just as an unpleasant physical object, like a fly, is 
brushed away. This defense mechanism cannot operate 
with the transfer of pleasant affects. There is no analo- 
gous motive for repressing ideas that give pleasure. 

There has, indeed, been a tendency to regard the 
adult loss of the infantile excretory interests as a repres- 
sion from the unpleasant; but this seems a mistake. 
Though there is a conventional tabu about them, the con- 
versation of intimates indicates that they are seldom re- 
garded with less than indifference, and that distinct, if 
vestigial, pleasures often remain in them. The repres- 
sion that exists about them is not " unconscious " or 
even personal ; it is superficial, a social one. Sumner re- 
lates the desire of privacy for such purposes to an entirely 
foreign trend of sympathetic magic. No enemy must be 
given a chance to get possession of something so inti- 
mately connected with the person, or through it the lat- 
ter might be done a mischief. (C/. pp. 94-95.) 

By rejecting the view that these trends are repressed 
owing to unpleasantness, one avoids the complication that 
the new interests of eroticism are not unpleasant, but 
pleasant. In fact, all the diffuse organic satisfactions of 
childhood are now centered about this greatest satisfac- 
tion. Pleasant affect is siphoned from the excretory 
trends, and they are left but slightly pleasant, indifferent, 
or somewhat unpleasant. How pleasant they will be 
left depends simply on how complete the affective siphon- 
ing has been. If all the pleasure originally attaching 
to excretory functions has made the normal shifting to 
the erotic, the excretory functions will be unpleasant, be- 
cause all things have some degree of both pleasant and 
unpleasant qualities. 

The comparative adult indifference to these infantile 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 141 

satisfactions does not come therefore through repression 
from unpleasantness. It comes because their pleasant- 
ness is siphoned over to new functions, which it is more 
important should be pleasant for the organism. 

This transference of interest from the excretory to 
the erotic sphere is the most complete and pervasive 
transference that takes place. If it does not take place 
completely enough, we have infantile fixations such as 
are seen in Sadger's case. If it develops in wrong di- 
rections, if the interest is transferred to wrong objects, 
perversions like homosexuality and fetishism occur. In 
any case, the original trend does not take on its unpleas- 
ant character until the pleasant affect is well established 
in its new attachment. Deer's flesh is not disdained by 
the man-eating tiger until he has tasted a man. 

The same must be said of the minor trends which are 
thought to derive something from the infantile excre- 
mental interests. It is possible, as Sadger says, that a 
fountain originates as an artistic symbol of the stream 
of urine. He mentions artistic creations in which the 
identification is altogether plain. But this association 
hardly takes place because of unpleasantness in the excre- 
tory function; rather because of pleasantness. It is the 
pleasantness of these things to us that makes primitive 
or cultured men see them where they do not otherwise 
exist. In so far as the symbolism of music, sculpture 
and the like really has this origin, it is not because people 
wanted to get rid of the underlying idea, any more than 
one speaks of bone or plunk from a wish to get rid of 
the underlying idea of dollar. In a previous chapter we 
surely saw that pleasant affects have an equal role with 
unpleasant ones in the formation of symbols; and it is 
the former which are at work here. 



142 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

But now we meet the process of symbolism in another 
phase. In Chapter III we studied symbols as the con- 
veyers, or at least as the expressions, of objects or ideas 
of objects. In language and in magic, — two main di- 
visions of symbolism considered — the word lion takes 
the place of the animal, a wax image takes the place of 
one's enemy. Something easy to control is made equiva- 
lent to something not so easy to control, because of real 
or fancied usefulness in so doing. This is rational sym- 
bolism. But now we are saying, in effect, that Miss X 
symbolizes my unadmired boy acquaintance, in that the 
affect she arouses in me is derived from him. She is 
not identified with him in any way rationally, cognitively ; 
it is only affectively that she is identified with him. The 
fact that she looks like him does not even come at once 
to awareness. The feeling that she arouses is the domi- 
nant, for a while the only feature of the association be- 
tween the two. In this way we shall now consider a 
thing as symbolic of something else, when it derives its 
loaded affect — pleasant or unpleasant — from that some- 
thing else, although it may not be identified with it in any 
other significant way. This we shall call affective sym- 
bolism. 

There are rational and affective elements in all sym- 
bolism. Words of language describe the objective world 
to us well enough, but they do not carry at all the affect 
of the actual experiences they connote. Their symbolism 
is dominantly rational, and but slightly affective. The 
water can of page 138 has indeed a rational association 
with the urinary interests; but in the boy their more 
prominent common feature is the affective, pleasurable 
one. Interjections do not symbolize ideas or objects di- 
rectly, but strictly feelings. The symbolism of the wed- 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 143 

ding ring is primarily affective, that of love; few people 
think of the ring as a rational symbolism, indicating 
without end or eternity. 

The bell-towers of Prince's case are the aptest of af- 
fective symbols, since they serve solely as carriers of 
affect, and have but irrelevant rational connection with 
the underlying cause of that affect. The brown colors 
of Tait's case are another affective symbol, loaded with 
affect from an original experience that is itself forgotten. 
As a symbol must not be greater than the thing it sym- 
bolizes, we must not apply the term affective symbolism 
to all cases of affective transference. It would be no 
more absurd to make the oak a symbol of the acorn, than 
to speak of love as an affective symbol of infantile auto- 
erotism. The term affective symbolism applies to those 
cases in which the association develops as a carrier of 
the affect attached to the original experience, and serves 
no other purpose. 

The common factor in the material quoted, is that an 
experience properly indifferent is loaded with affect from 
another experience which was properly rich in affect. 
In order that the secondary experience may be loaded 
with affect from the primary one, some association be- 
tween the two is necessary. Direct temporal contiguity 
is the simplest kind of such association. It has not 
been prominent in the examples given. Scott heard the 
songs and the stories simultaneously. Pfister cites the 
case of a boy who, having just learned to masturbate, 
does so during a school session at a time when a boy 
next him is being whipped. The affect attaching to the 
masturbation is radiated over to the whipping; so that 
after this experience, his masturbation is preceded by a 
stereotyped fancy of a boy, or occasionally his sister, 



144 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

being whipped. The whipping became obsessively asso- 
ciated with the masturbation through temporal contigu- 
ity. 11 

We have seen more of association by similarity. 
Prince's case, from disliking one kind of bell-tower, dis- 
likes other kinds. Tait's case, from disliking one par- 
ticular brown, dislikes other browns. The writer, dis- 
liking the memory of a certain boy, dislikes a young 
woman who looks like him. This opens the question of 
how much similarity, or what kind of association, is 
found between the primary and the secondary experience, 
when the latter bears a transferred affect, or serves as an 
affective symbol of the former. 

How much must a building suggest a bell-tower for 
Prince's case to fear it ? How much brown may there be 
in a color-mixture without Tait's case feeling dislike 
toward it? Would they dislike people whose names 
were Bell, Tower, or Brown? Would I have disliked 
Miss X if only her voice and not her face had resembled 
the boy's ? When the " conversion " of an affective ex- 
perience into a hysterical symptom (e. g., a peculiar 
body-movement) takes place, what are the grounds of 
association, in contiguity or similarity, upon which such 
conversion may be based? How close a rational asso-. 
ciation is necessary for affective symbolism? 

Apparently the connection may be quite remote or 
even figurative. Pfister cites some cases that show 
this. A well educated woman, married for some months, 
ardently desires children, but the husband is impotent. 
The unity of the household is threatened. She has hys- 
terical pains in the abdomen, and also an obsessive idea 

11 This contiguity is representative of an important source of 
fetishism. 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 145 

of burglars (Einbrecher, " breakers-in " ) in the garden. 
Now this possibility is present to any householder so 
fortunate as to have a garden, but it does not lead to a 
morbid fear. This comes in the case of a woman who 
wishes children but cannot have them because her hus- 
band is impotent. The idea of burglars receives this 
load of affect from the disturbed situation in which the 
woman finds herself. It comes up insistently as an af- 
fective symbol of the sexual difficulty. The analogies 
of sexual intercourse to breaking in through a garden 
are sufficient to establish it. The phobia disappeared on 
the understanding of this relationship, and the fortunate 
cure of the husband's impotence. We cannot here go 
deeply into the circumstance that the idea of burglars 
carries fear when the thing back of it is a wish. It is 
part of the same process by which the conventional old 
maid worries about the man under her bed. Sexual 
feelings as yet unrealized are often associated with a 
large element of fear, which may even interfere seri- 
ously with the establishment of sexual relationships. In 
this particular case, the idea of burglary is itself one to 
provoke some fear-reaction, the more when obsessively 
present. 

In another case, a teacher was sensible of a sudden and 
unaccountable attraction for one of his girl-pupils who 
had previously not especially affected him. It appears 
that he is temporarily in love with a young woman who is 
descended from a famous poet, though not bearing his 
name. The surname of the pupil is the same as the 
poet's, and her first name is the same as that of the 
young woman. As his ardor for the latter cools, the 
pupil again becomes indifferent. By virtue of the re- 
lated names, the affect for the young woman radiated 
11 



146 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

to the pupil. Quite unbeknown to the teacher, the pupil 
was thus an affective symbol for the young woman; just 
as, unbeknown to Prince's patient, bell-towers were af- 
fective symbols for ideas connected with the mother's 
illness. 

A multiple succession of affective symbols is shown 
in the case of a twelve-year-old girl characterized by an 
excessive dislike for the ordinary housework she is called 
upon to perform. She does not mind setting the table, 
making beds, watering flowers, or running errands, so 
much as dusting, cleaning the bird cage, and the like ; i.e., 
especially things that have to do with house-cleaning. 
The most distasteful thing for her is to " cut off the 
stems of the flowers because their sap-tubes are plugged." 
In the midst of embarrassment ensuing upon this con- 
fession, the girl appreciates an analogy between these 
dislikes and her chronic constipation from the earliest 
childhood, resisting all medical treatment. Hereupon 
the constipation disappears, and she becomes normally 
interested in her housework. The house-cleaning served, 
in its unpleasantness, as the affective symbol of its bodily 
correlate. As in other cases quoted, there was no aware- 
ness of the association until special methods of examina- 
tion brought it to awareness. 

The same girl had a habit of peeling skin from her 
fingers. This is quite frequently regarded as a vestigial 
autoerotic reaction. The girl had actually masturbated 
at eight years, and the finger-peeling is apparently a re- 
action to its discontinuance. She was broken of the 
finger-peeling by a physician, only to develop at once a 
marked avidity in eating raw carrots. On arriving spon- 
taneously at the analogy between this and her previous 
practices, the hunger for carrots ceased. Shortly after- 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 147 

ward appears an inordinate desire to learn the violin. 
" Geige spielen " is actually a colloquial equivalent for 
masturbation. As the violin was purchased, she was 
noted again to be peeling her fingers, but this ceased with 
the possession of the violin. In these instances the crude 
autoerotic affect represented in the earlier masturbation 
is simply carried over into less harmful or possibly good 
reactions. The violin would be here what the water can 
is to Sadger's case (p. 138). 

A close parallel to the burglar phobia presented above 
is shown by a phobia in a girl of 14J4 years, which 
breaks out on the stopping of masturbation. It will be 
understood that this blocking the outlet of erotic tensions 
creates for her somewhat the same situation that the im- 
potent husband causes in the other case. The phobia is 
of insects; that they will climb up her back; have their 
delicate wings injured. There was also a fancy of de- 
composing in a grave with insects crawling about her. 
It appears that she had been taught erotic practices by a 
servant girl and her lover; they had told her it would 
feel " as though insects were crawling up her body." 
They had also explained to her the significance of the 
hymen. (Delicate wings; cf. Hymenoptera.) As be- 
fore, the affective symbol of the blocked trend carries a 
morbid fear. 

It has been remarked by psychiatrists that self-accusa- 
tory ideas, of whatever nature, very frequently have 
masturbatory practices as a basis. The individual does 
not accuse himself of the masturbation, but of something 
else. Pfister brings a very clear illustration of this in 
the case of a boy who had for six years stolen from his 
mother without compunction. When he began to mas- 
turbate, this did not trouble him, but he awoke to great 



148 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

penitence for his dishonesty. Pfister observes that this 
transference of self -accusation usually appears when 
masturbation has been stopped in consequence of warning 
threats. (C/. above.) 

Here the bond of similarity that establishes the affec- 
tive symbolism is again vague ; anything that will serve as 
a carrier for self -accusatory feelings will serve as the 
affective symbol. 

Affective symbolism is the key to the interpretation of 
the affective displacements of dreams. As described on 
page 120, the dreamer goes into paroxysms of horror on 
reading the details of some century-old murders. The 
probable supposition is, that what the dreamer is looking 
at is really something other than an account of sins in 
bygone ages. The dreamer is really facing some fact of 
his own existence which is of tremendous affect ful value. 
Only, by the fundamental tendency of the dream to 
symbolize, it is presented in this distorted form. What 
this underlying affectful idea is can seldom, if ever, be 
told directly. Prince's case could not tell what was the 
idea underlying her waking phobia of bell-towers. 
Careful records of ideas associated with the symbol may 
enable one who is practiced in such studies to select the 
idea which has loaded the dream-episode with its affect. 
This is actually what the psychoanalytic method attempts 
to do. 

In the " Lusitania-cap " dream again, it is evident that 
the cap without which the dreamer may not leave the 
sinking ship is no ordinary piece of head covering, but 
something very important for the dreamer's existence. 
He will not trust himself to the mercy of the waves 
without it. To one knowing the general circumstances of 
the dreamer at the time, the probable symbolisms are a 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 149 

good deal clearer than in the previous case. They may 
be left to the reader's ingenuity. We shall recur to some 
other points in this dream under the head of Dissoci- 
ation. 

When, in the dream, properly indifferent things ap- 
pear of great moment to us, the best explanation is that 
they are representing something really of great moment 
to us. This carrying of their affect is the most striking 
way in which the dream-ideas symbolize the underlying 
ones. The cap would thus be the affective symbol of 
something very essential. 

The term affective symbolism is thus applied to a men- 
tal process which carries a special affect derived from 
some other mental process. The examples quoted have 
mostly been of a kind in which one could trace a proc- 
ess which had carried the affect previous to the symbol 
in question. What the violin carried last, had previously 
been carried by eating carrots, peeling ringers and mas- 
turbation. It seems quite right to consider that anything 
to which pronounced affect attaches in later life of the 
individual has derived this affect from something else 
which previously held it. The sum of affectivity con- 
tinues; the mental process which carries it is subject to 
much alteration. 

It will be a matter of opinion how far one should ap- 
ply the term affective symbolism to the manifold hob- 
bies, fads and interests that people cultivate, often far 
beyond the bounds of usefulness. Affective transfer- 
ence, radiation, fusion, siphoning, absorption, exten- 
sion, 12 they certainly are. These come especially, if a 
fundamental trend or interest is prevented from trans- 
ferring itself along the usual lines of its development. 

12 McDougall, "Social Psychology" (1914), 74. 



150 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Who does not realize that the domestic pets which lonely 
people keep carry the affect that normally belongs to 
lovers or children? Only one should insist on the es- 
sentially affective nature of such symbolisms. The old 
maid lavishes affection on her parrot, and we may call 
it the affective symbol of a child. 13 But the identifica- 
tion stops here ; she does not rock it in a cradle or bottle- 
feed it, though she might rear a tombstone above its 
body. 

The great problem of affective transference is: from 
what do the loaded mental processes derive their affect, 
and what is the relation between the original carriers of 
affect and the subsequent ones? We saw, for example, 
that some share of the erotic affect in later life is ab- 
sorbed from infantile enjoyments of metabolic functions. 
The pursuits most enjoyed in later life are those which 
have best absorbed pleasurable affect from things enjoyed 
earlier in life. Things which the individual thus enjoys 
will have more of the individual's attention and energy 
than things which are indifferent. It is thus significant 
for the individual's adaptation to life, to what activities 
the pleasant affects attaching to childish sources of en- 
joyment are later transferred. If they are transferred 
to useful activities, the result will be beneficial to the 
individual and those around him. This is the process 
that Freud and his followers call sublimation. If the 
pleasurable affects are not sufficiently transferred, or are 
transferred to useless or harmful activities, the resulting 
failure of sublimation is summed up in such terms as 
introversion (p. 41), or more broadly, regression. 14 

13 Or a lover ; cf. the charming monologue of Beatrice Herf ord, 
" The Professional Boarder." 

14 Cf. Wells, " Mental Regression : Its Conception and Types," 
Psychiat. Bui. (Oct., 1916), 445-492. 



THE CONTINUITY OF EMOTION 151 

A great part of human energy is spent to serve no pur- 
pose beyond immediate sensory or mental pleasure to the 
individual. It is like the lavish expenditure of money 
for unproductive luxuries, by way of " putting it into 
circulation." The political economist points out that 
the money is as truly put into circulation if spent in more 
useful ways. The similar policy of mental economy is 
thus wasteful, though not necessarily harmful. 

Whatever directs the transfer of affect and interest 
from trend to trend of conduct is what makes the most 
striking difference between the superior and the inferior 
personality. It makes the difference between the lover 
of caged birds and the builder of a great social serv- 
ice. It is the process by which one workman spends his 
dinner hour in teaching his dog a new trick, while his 
comrade invents a new carpenter's tool whose patent he 
sells for a fortune. It determines whether a boy who 
chases fireflies will find his life work in attending to 
street lamps, or in engineering the illumination of great 
cities. 

Viewed genetically, the affective life of man is a con- 
tinual series of affective transferences. Certain things 
are normally of interest in childhood. Their affects are 
transferred to the other normal interests of adult life. 
When an abnormal, unusual sort of affective transference 
has taken place, it produces " affective displacement." 
Displaced affective reactions may also come about in 
other ways (affective contrast and underlying moods). 
The chief generalization to which this chapter directs us 
is the persistence of affectivity independently of the idea 
to which it attaches. Objekt vergeht, Affekt besteht. 

This is the meaning of the " continuity of emotion " — 
the conservation of affectivity. As water siphons from 



152 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

one vessel to another, so does the Gefuhlsflut of affect 
and interest siphon from one pursuit to another — from 
the child's hunt for the golden butterfly to the man's 
quest for the golden fleece. Successful living is pretty 
much a function of the paths which this transference 
takes, and the effectiveness with which it is accomplished. 
And, as men differ greatly in these paths of transference, 
they differ again in the readiness with which affects 
transfer from any one pursuit to another. Some persons 
develop liking and interest for almost anything which 
circumstance puts in their way. Others have deeper and 
more stable interests which do not so readily transfer. 
The Don Juan and the " one girl man " are their erotic 
prototypes. The enjoyments of the former have supe- 
rior adaptability, those of the latter superior persistence. 
Major differences of character and temperament hinge 
upon these factors. The contents of personal conscious- 
ness have never begun to account for them. This fact 
invites their classification as inherent and constitutional 
traits. But psychogenic influences may be outside the 
domain of personal consciousness. Ideas of much im- 
port to the individual, like the phobias of bell-towers and 
of insects, lay inaccessible to consciousness; yet they were 
not constitutional but psychogenic. The significance of 
acquired but unconscious influences in the development of 
personality is unquestionable. We seek their better ac- 
quaintance in the next chapter. 



CHAPTER V 

TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 

As these lines are written, certain mental processes go 
on in the writer's mind, of which this writing is an ex- 
pression. Meanwhile, other processes go on in him, 
which are independent of this writing. Breathing and 
heart-action continue uninterruptedly, and are but slightly 
affected. Like the writing, they are conditioned by 
nervous activity. Breathing depends upon a lower nerv- 
ous center, and heart-rate is similarly regulated. Breath- 
ing and heart-rate on the one hand, the composition of 
these lines on the other, have not especially modified one 
another. Such independence, and lack of connection, 
when it occurs between mental processes, is called disso- 
ciation. 1 When processes thus go on with relative inde- 
pendence, they are said to be dissociated one from the 
other. One mental function is dissociated from another, 
to the extent that it goes on independently of the other. 
Of course this independence is never absolute; if the 
heart stopped so would the writing. The dissociation 
between mental processes is always a matter of degree. 

As the writing proceeds, my secretary brings me some 
letters to sign. While the letters are being examined 
and signed, the work of composition ceases. It is im- 

1 Cf. Hart, " Psychology of Insanity," 42 : " This division of the 
mind into independent fragments, which are not coordinated together 
to attain some common end, is termed ' Dissociation of Conscious- 
ness.' " This broad use of the term is the best one for us. Cf. also 
Hart's illustrations. 

153 



154 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

possible for me to attend at once to my writing and to 
the letters. My eyes, memories and arm-movements can- 
not serve both these purposes at once. The writing and 
the letters employ organic functions which are not inde- 
pendent. I cannot dissociate these functions to perform 
the different tasks at once. Such functions are rather 
integrated — the opposite of dissociated. In so far as 
the organic functions proceed independently of one an- 
other, they are dissociated. In so far as they modify one 
another, they are integrated. 

It is easy to see that of the several bodily and mental 
functions, many are closely integrated. As a rule, there 
is a close relation between respiration-rate and heart- 
rate. If one should go up while the other went down, 
they would be dissociated. The understanding of a joke 
is integrated with the process of laughter. In the same 
sense, the knowledge that two and two make four is inte- 
grated with the balancing of one's bank account. My 
conduct of to-day is integrated with a conversation I had 
yesterday, if I keep a certain lunch appointment. If I 
forget the appointment, my mental processes are disso- 
ciated with those of yesterday, where they should have 
been integrated. In one who is by nature a good father 
and an honest politician, public and private morals are 
integrated. In a good father and corrupt politician they 
are dissociated. 

It makes for the well-being of the organism that some 
functions should be closely integrated, and others more 
or less dissociated. That dissociation is certainly a good 
trait which enables one to do mental work while digest- 
ing his dinner, or to pick one's way over a rough moun- 
tain trail while carrying on a pleasant conversation with 
companions. Much dissociation comes by practice; in 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 155 

the latter instance, the novice would have to pay attention 
to his footing. An essential part of all training is that it 
enables one to carry on simultaneously processes which 
at first take undivided attention. Some people may train 
themselves to unusual dissociations of their mental proc- 
esses, like multiplying a group of figures and repeating 
verses at once, in about the same time as is required for 
either alone. 2 

With these examples for the meaning of integration 
and dissociation, let us briefly enumerate what is nor- 
mally integrated in the personality, and what is dissoci- 
ated. Most reflex, or so-called " infra-cerebral " proc- 
esses, like breathing, heart-rate, and metabolic functions, 
we are not normally aware of, nor do we voluntarily 
control them. They are dissociated from awareness and 
from volition. Breathing and walking we can readily 
become aware of and voluntarily modify, but we need 
not. In digestion and other metabolic processes, the dis- 
sociation from awareness is practically complete. 

But though many such functions are independent of 
awareness, there is a sense in which they are all inte- 
grated with it and with one another. Their tendency 
is to serve the personality. The digestion of food and 
the performance of ordinary work are dissociated so far 
as independence is concerned. Yet they are both bene- 
ficial to the organism in their several ways. Though 
digestion is not integrated with awareness, it is integrated 
with the tendency to survival. Now if this integration 
should break down, and the digestive organs should re- 
fuse to perform their work, there would be a dissocia- 
tion which is harmful to the organism. Some dissocia- 
tions are useful, others wasteful. A great number of 

2 James, " Principles," I, 408. 



156 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

normal dissociations are developed through selection and 
training, for their value to the organism. Dissociations 
harmful to the organism are pathological. Pathological 
dissociations come about through special applications of 
the principles brought forward in Chapter II (pp. 44-45) . 

Every one who is to speak of dissociated mental func- 
tions must posit something from which the dissociation 
takes place. What is the dissociated function dissociated 
from ? A simple kind of dissociation occurs in hysteria, 
where the patient does not feel a touch upon some par- 
ticular portion of the body. That portion is said to be 
anesthetic. We call it so because " he," the patient, does 
not feel it. Sensation is present, because there is some 
involuntary reaction to the touch, but "he" does not 
feel it ; it is dissociated from " him," not integrated with 
" him." The sum of all memories that this word " him " 
implies in this case, is the mental system from which dis- 
sociation, as we shall here discuss it, takes place. A con- 
venient name for this system is, the main personality. 3 
In the writings of Janet and Prince, one finds personal 
consciousness. The two are used interchangeably ; either 
form is used that seems the clearer for the purpose in 
hand. 

This chapter describes the dissociation of mental proc- 
esses from the main personality, with some other phe- 
nomena not strictly of this class, but obviously related to 
it. These dissociations are of several kinds. We have 
quoted a possible example of the first kind, in a break- 
down of the digestive system. Here a process is disso- 
ciated not only from the personal consciousness (as it is 
normally), but also from the main tendency to survival. 
We shall meet a few other examples. In such cases, the 

3 Introduced in this sense by August Hoch. 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 157 

distinguishing feature is the dissociation of some invol- 
untary or unconscious function of the organism. Sec- 
ond, the ability to move one side of the body, or the lower 
half of the body, or to make the movements of speaking, 
may be lost. It is like a paralysis of the muscles that 
make these movements. Certain movements of these 
muscles are lost to the control of the main personality. 
They are dissociated from it. Third, a patient whose 
retina is unaffected may be unable to see objects outside 
the direct line of vision. Though his skin is healthy, he 
may be unable to feel a touch at some special spot. 
When this happens, it is a form of sensation, instead of 
a movement, that is dissociated from the main personal- 
ity. Fourth, ideas may manifest themselves in a great 
variety of ways, without the main personality's being 
aware of the ideas. Prince's patient of the bell-towers 
gave a fair example of this, when her hand wrote auto- 
matically something not in the awareness of the then 
dominating personality. Fifth, the main personality 
may lose control of the organism, which is then domi- 
nated by a system of ideas split off from it. (Somnam- 
bulisms, fugues, multiple personality.) Sixth, the main 
personality may be aware of the occurrence of a mental 
process, but not recognize the existence of the process as 
a part of the main personality. (Externalization, pro- 
jection.) For example, a patient complains that the 
"voices" hurl insults at him. Of course, the voices 
come from nobody but himself; but he does not recognize 
the voices as coming from himself. 

We may take up these different forms of dissociation 
in the order above. First come those in which an invol- 
untary and only incidentally conscious movement is dis- 
sociated from the integrated organic trends, so that it no 



158 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

longer serves the organism. Janet affords a group of 
illustrations. Perhaps the most delicate is the dissocia- 
tion of the crystalline lens, which abolishes visual accom- 
modation. The lens is functionally paralyzed, and can- 
not accommodate for varying distances. It remains ad- 
justed for one distance only, and objects must be placed 
at that distance to be seen clearly. 

Again the dissociation affects the respiratory movements. 
The integration of the diaphragm, glottis, etc., which is nec- 
essary for effective breathing, is disturbed. Considerable 
effort may be made to breathe, but, as it is not well co- 
ordinated, very little air is taken in. An interesting res- 
piratory dissociation he quotes from Lermoyez, whose case 
could breathe only through the mouth, though the nose was 
not obstructed. If the mouth was kept closed, no breathing 
was possible for her, and she became blue in the face for 
want of air. The simple, necessary function of breathing 
was dissociated — wholly cut off from serving its elemen- 
tary organic purposes. Janet is of the opinion that these 
dissociations of breathing do not descend to the lowest 
nerve-centers that control breathing. A patient, unable to 
breathe, may faint from asphyxia. Then, when conscious- 
ness is abolished, the centers of the medulla resume their 
function, and breathing recommences. Life, which con- 
isciousness has been powerless to maintain, is preserved by 
the unconscious. 

Dissociations of the alimentary functions have been men- 
tioned. In the above respect there is a fateful differ- 
ence between respiratory and alimentary dissociations. 
The taking of food involves voluntary movements ; so that 
the dissociation of the voluntary processes of eating, if 
sufficiently prolonged, may cause death from hunger. Janet 
thinks that sensory dissociations of smell, taste, and touch 
(mucous membrane of the stomach), play some role in dis- 
sociating the alimentary functions. If the appropriate 
stimuli of appetite are not felt, the proper reflexes are not 
aroused. On the other hand, the function of alimentation 
is so complex that it is difficult to know just what is disso- 
ciated in a general disturbance of it. Janet lays more stress 
on a general euphoria; a failure to perceive the sensations 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 159 

of inanition. The patients have less sense of the need to 
eat. It is important to know whether digestion proceeds 
normally in the case of food administered through a stom- 
ach tube. If the involuntary processes of digestion are 
still integrated, there should then be no death from starva- 
tion. According to Janet, tube-feedings are digested prac- 
tically normally. The dissociation of involuntary alimen- 
tary functions is therefore doubtful. 

There is some other evidence that vaso-motor and trophic 
processes may be disconnected from previous integrations 
with the rest of the organism. Moll, without accepting 
them all, unreservedly, cites a long series of such observa- 
tions, 4 in which the dissociation is produced by hypnotic 
suggestion. Bleeding from the nose and skin is said to 
have been thus produced. When a subject was touched 
with a common object and told the skin was being burned, 
a blister in the form of the object resulted. Control of the 
peristaltic functions seems relatively easy to effect. James 
recalls Delboeuf's observation that of two symmetrical 
burns with the actual cautery, no blister appeared on the 
side for which anesthesia was suggested. 5 Pfister reports 
the case of a young girl who twice developed a swelling of 
the lip after resisting attempts at kissing. 6 

The voluntary movement of limbs may be lost, so that 
they appear paralyzed. If one side of the body is thus 
dissociated from voluntary control, the result is a func- 
tional hemiplegia. If the dissociation affects the lower 
half of the body, the result is called a functional para- 
plegia. Various signs of physical disease are absent in 
such cases which would be present in organic paralyses, 
and thus they are distinguishable. Janet makes a strik- 
ing point of the long duration of the paralyses, lasting 
for days and months, unlike other hysterical dissocia- 
tions, which are more transient. Cognate with the pa- 
ralyses are the muscular contractures. There is the same 

4 " Hypnotism " (1904), 123-138. 

5 " Principles," II, 612. 
6 D. psa. Met., 35. 



160 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

dissociative loss of control, but the limb is moderately 
contracted instead of paralyzed. In two of Janet's cases 
of this type, the symptoms lasted for thirty years; but the 
symptom is also liable to sudden disappearance. 7 

Sometimes the dissociation affects movements of the 
eyes; if the patient desires to look at something in the 
periphery, he must turn his head to bring it into the field 
of clear vision. On the other hand, if he is startled, the 
eyes promptly turn to the source of trouble. The volun- 
tary function alone is lost; the deeper automatic one is 
retained. 8 It is like the medulla restoring breathing 
when the will cannot (p. 158). 

The function of speech may be lost, simulating a true 
motor aphasia. Or only a certain part of it may be lost, 
like the function of the vocal cords. The patient then 
speaks only in a whisper. Or, more refinedly still, the 
speaking voice may be lost but the singing one kept. 9 
Many of the common lapsus linguae are transitory dis- 
sociations of the speech function to which more detailed 
reference must here be dispensed with. 

A general feature of these dissociations is that they 
affect circumscribed functions strongly and in particular 
ways ; other closely related functions may not be affected. 
This is what is meant when one speaks of a systematic 
anesthesia, paralysis, or other dissociation. It is a sys- 
tematic dissociation by which the patient can sing, but 
not speak aloud. Important systematic paralyses are the 
losses of manual dexterity in trades. Though there is no 
paralysis of the hands, the seamstress loses the ability to 
sew, the ironer to iron. 10 Such a dissociation is even 
more specialized than that of the crystalline lens from 

7 Maj. Sympt., 134. 9 Maj. Sympt., 217. 

8 Maj. Sympt., 206. 10 Maj. Sympt., 177. 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 161 

the complex of eye-movements (p. 158). The best 
known dissociation of this type is that called astasia- 
abasia, in which the patient cannot walk, though other 
movements of the legs are preserved. Even some move- 
ments of locomotion, like jumping, dancing, running, 
may persist; only walking is lost. There is no question 
of failing power in the limbs; the difficulty is that the 
memories, the " neurograms " as Prince calls them, in 
which these functions are " conserved," have been cut off 
from their proper connections. The neurograms are 
still there and intact. Let the connection be restored and 
the process will discharge as before. Comparing the 
mind to a telephone switchboard, and the association of 
ideas to the several connections possible and established 
on such a switchboard, the entire group of dissociative 
losses may be figured as a disturbance of electrical con- 
nections. Loss from organic dissociation is to loss from 
functional dissociation as destruction of the power plant 
is to the disordered switchboard. 

In the third main type of dissociations, the mental 
process is called " dissociated " from the main personal- 
ity on the ground that the main personality is not aware 
of it. Among the organic activities of which the main 
personality is normally unaware, we have mentioned re- 
flex, metabolic, and other involuntary processes. This 
group need not occupy us further. When we focus on 
the field of ideas and perceptions of which the main per- 
sonality is unaware, we must sharpen our definition some- 
what. 

\ Our eyes are so constituted that they take up the vibra- 
tions of light-waves, and, preserving essential differences in 
them, transmit them so that they can properly be reacted 
to. The ears do the same for sound-waves, the organs of 
12 



162 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

touch for pressure. They are means for perceiving what 
goes on in the world about us, so that we can act rightly 
toward it. This adjustment of the reaction to the stimulus 
takes place mainly in the central nervous system. Now, 
just as we have, in the sensory end-organ, means of per- 
ceiving something of what goes on outside us, so we have 
means of perceiving some of the mental activity within us. 
When we perceive, in this way, something going on in our 
minds, we say we are aware of it. Awareness is the sensa- 
tion of mental process, just as vision is the sensation of light, 
and audition the sensation of sound. 

As visual and auditory sensations have their obvious 
uses for the organism, it is reasonable to look for uses of 
awareness. In Chapter II (p. 50), there was indicated what 
the nature of this usefulness might be. In order that I may 
modify my conduct in response to the telegram and go to 
Buffalo instead of Pittsburgh, I must, apparently, become 
aware of the telegram's contents. In the normal individual, 
this awareness is an essential condition of adjusting one- 
self to situations as complex as this. The eye will adjust 
itself to light, the feet to the ground, the breathing to one's 
exertions, without one's knowledge; but when one must 
change the plans of a railway journey, or review a book, 
or answer a letter, these things will not be accomplished 
without some awareness of the tasks involved. This is 
summed up in the technical formula : " Arcs of the third 
level are conscious." Where the proper adjustment does 
not occur without awareness, it is natural to suppose that 
awareness helps in some way to make it. 

The best general criterion of awareness for us is a wholly 
empirical one. If the hysterical cannot tell that we touch 
him at a certain point, we have to suppose that he is not 
aware that we touch him. The criterion is that the person 
shall be able to formulate the mental process in terms of 
language intelligible to another. 11 If such a formulation is 
given, we must assume awareness. We may also assume 
awareness, in so far as it is probable that such a formulation 
could be given. 

11 When this is a process that is normally capable of being so 
formulated, as the normal person can tell when he is being touched. 
This reservation is suggested by some observations of Terman's. 
Cf. also p. 319. 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 163 

The first group of these dissociations to be considered 
is the failure of awareness for sensations ordinarily con- 
scious. Some such examples have been cited. The loss 
of sensation from various parts of the alimentary tract 
was alluded to in discussing the hysterical disturbances 
in taking food. Patients may not recognize that the 
food they take is too hot or too cold. Just as there is a 
loss of the hunger sense, there is a relative loss of the 
sense of suffocation. The patient with respiratory dis- 
sociations " indicates only very late the need to 
breathe." 12 Complete loss of the sense of sound is re- 
ported by Walton. Word deafness, in which words or 
musical airs are heard but not recognized, is also re- 
ported. 13 Thus the dissociation may affect the entire 
auditory function, or it may cover only the higher asso- 
ciative processes. Loss of smell may accompany respira- 
tory difficulties. 

The eye, which offers some delicate examples of motor 
dissociation, does equal service on the sensory side. The 
dissociation may be very deep, so that careful examination 
is needful to distinguish it from organic blindness. Here, 
too, like the startled person who moves his eye, the hys- 
terically blind patient may avoid an obstacle unexpectedly 
put before him. But the dissociation from the awareness 
of the main personality seems to be complete. 

The same preservation of the more automatic parts of 
the function is shown in the cases in which the dissociative 
blindness affects only one eye. Then if the other eye is 
closed, the patient is in darkness ; but with both eyes open, 
he sees binocularly. 14 Dissociations of halves of the visual 
field also occur. Interesting are the anomalies of color- 

12 Maj. Sympt., 250. 

13 Cf., with general reference to the sensory dissociations, Oppen- 
heim (tr. Bruce), "Textbook of Nervous Diseases" (1911), II, 
1064-1070. 

Curschmann (tr. Burr), "Textbook on Nervous Diseases" (1915), 
II, 852-858. 

14 Maj. Sympt, 188. 



164 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

vision. Apparently the colors at the blue end of the spec- 
trum vanish most easily, and red is the most persistent. 15 
This is different from the organic color-blindness, in which 
the red-green variety is the most common. 

A more characteristic dissociation is the contraction of 
the visual field : the patient does not become aware of things 
not in the direct line of vision. Normally the field of vision 
has an angle of about 90 . Among the many dissociations 
of hysteria is one in which this angle is reduced to 30 or 
20 , or so much that only a point is left. But, as in other 
cases mentioned, it is only with mental processes of a cer- 
tain kind that this perception is abolished. Reactions more 
or less automatic may still be carried out normally. A 
patient whose visual field is in this way reduced to a point 
may be perfectly able to catch a ball. 16 Another such case 
would have a convulsion when he saw a small flame as from 
a lighted match. Although the angle of the visual field was 
about 5 , the convulsion would ensue if the match were 
moved into the 80th degree. This observation parallels 
the case with muscular anesthesia, who would fall down if 
the eyes were closed, but who would have a convulsion if 
the arms were placed in a particular position, although the 
eyes were closed. 

The sleeping mother is systematically .anesthetic to the 
noise of street cars, but hyperesthetic to the cry of her 
child. If we await a certain sound, many other supra- 
liminal sounds may normally occur without our becom- 
ing aware of them. The systematic dissociation of 
various sensations from awareness, and the preserva- 
tion of a certain other sensation in awareness, is what 
gives us " conscious " attention to the favored sensa- 
tion. 17 

15 Maj. Sympt., 204. 

16 Maj. Sympt., 198. 

17 Thus Parmelee : " By attention I mean simply that the nervous 
system responds to certain sensations, to the total or partial ex- 
clusion of other sensations which are being received at the same 
time. . . . Hence it is that attention is not necessarily an indica- 
tion of the presence of consciousness. . . ." " Science of Human 
Behavior" (1913), 290-291. 



TYPES OP DISSOCIATION 165 

Prince adduces the familiar process of hunting for an 
object that is lying immediately before one. One has a 
systematic anesthesia for it. It is the same process by 
which the hypnotized subject fails to perceive the marked 
card, which he must have first distinguished, in order to 
meet the suggestion not to perceive it. 18 

By similar dissociation, the victim of the railway acci- 
dent does not perceive his own pain or the cries of his 
fellow-sufferers whose pain-sensations are more " inte- 
grated " with their main personalities. The wounded 
soldier does not perceive his hurt on the battlefield. 
Great emotional crises thus have a property of dissociat- 
ing normally intense sensations from awareness. (Mar- 
tyrdom.) 

The sensory and motor functions whose dissociations 
have been described may be recounted as follows : 

Dissociations from trends of organic survival. Involun- 
tary or automatic functions. — Visual accommodation (crys- 
talline lens). Respiratory coordinations. Automatic re- 
sponses of digestive system (?). Bleeding from nose and 
skin (Hypn. sugg.). Formation of blister (Hypn. sugg.). 
Peristaltic functions (Hypn. sugg.). Swelling of lip. 

Dissociations from awareness. (Preserved integration 
with trends of organic survival frequently demonstrable.) 
Voluntary functions. — Hemiplegia. Paraplegia. Con- 
tractures. Eye-movements. Motor speech. Speaking 
aloud. Speaking aloud lost but singing preserved. Loss 
of special abilities — sewing, ironing. Loss of walking but 
not of running or jumping. 

Sensory functions. — (Hysterical dissoc). Loss of or- 
ganic sensations. Sound and word deafness. Blindness. 
Monocular blindness. Color blindness. Contraction of 
visual field. Muscular sense. (Normal dissoc). Loss of 
irrelevant noises by sleeping mother. Loss of object imme- 
diately before one. Injuries of railway accident or battle- 
field. Anesthesias of martyrs. 

18 Unc, 442. 



166 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

" In reality," says Janet, (i what has disappeared is 
not the elementary sensation, the preservation of which 
we have just seen; it is the faculty which enables the sub- 
ject to realize this sensation, to connect it with his person- 
ality, to be able to say clearly, ' It is I who feel; it is I 
who hear. . . .' They are groups of sensations forming 
a kind of system, that is to say, the ensemble of sensations 
coming from the hand or leg, which can no longer be 
connected with the totality of consciousness, although 
they still exist on their own account, and even determine 
reflexes and usual movements. Let us apply the same 
notion to our paralyses; we shall see that the facts are 
absolutely of the same kind." 

This concludes our survey of the dissociations of sen- 
sory and motor processes from the main personality. We 
see that there is almost no limit to the fineness of the 
analysis which the dissociative process can make. The 
next topic concerns the higher mental processes — ideas 
or memories which do not come to awareness. The cri- 
terion of awareness is necessarily the same as before : 
that the subject shall be able to describe the mental con- 
tent. In order that an experience may be described, it 
must be recalled to the mentality that describes it. The 
whole question of dissociated thought-processes turns 
upon recollection. The problem is to demonstrate in the 
reactions of the organism the effectiveness of thought- 
processes which the main personality does not recall to 
awareness. 

At any given time one is aware of only a small part of 
what one recalls at will, or may subsequently recall. 
This material is conserved, as Prince puts it, outside the 
field of awareness. But, where its recall to awareness is 
under voluntary control, and its effect upon conduct can- 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 167 

not be demonstrated without its coming to awareness, it 
would be straining a point to regard it as dissociated ma- 
terial. 

On the other hand, it is a constant experience, that we 
try to recall something that refuses to come into the per- 
sonal consciousness. We give up trying, and later on it 
comes of itself. The writer has noted an especial ef- 
fectiveness of recall (hypermnesia) just at waking in 
the morning; and has made use of it to recall names and 
snatches of song which had been unsuccessfully sought at 
other times. As will appear below, no limit can be set 
to the extent of the memories which hypermnesia may 
recall to awareness, or the perfection with which they are 
preserved until they are so recalled. These ideas are 
dissociated from the main personality in the sense that 
they cannot be voluntarily recalled. That they are con- 
served all the while, their later recurrence shows. 

The simplest type of mental dissociation is a systematic 
amnesia. It is to ideas exactly what dissociative anes- 
thesia is to sensation, or paralysis to movement. A tran- 
sitory instance was shown by a lady who for years has 
known the writer well, but who, in the attempt to address 
him in company, cannot recall his name, searching it in 
embarrassment for several seconds. It may be impossi- 
ble for the subject to recall the forgotten experience. 
Prince's bell-tower case could not recall to the personal 
consciousness the original episode of the bell-towers. It 
was dissociated, but effective for the main personality in 
giving rise to the phobia (p. 129). When certain spe- 
cial, often clearly important, events are forgotten, and 
have their conservation afterward demonstrated (as in 
the automatic writing of the bell-tower case), this kind of 
systematic amnesia is called episodic amnesia. The dis- 



168 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

sociation may also be a loss of memory to the personal 
consciousness of what happened during special periods, as 
of days or weeks. Some cases are reported in which 
things are forgotten as fast as they happen, or in which 
the whole previous life is " forgotten." It has been, and 
still is, a fascinating experimental problem how deep the 
forgetting goes in such cases. In the Reynolds case of 
Weir Mitchell, although the previous experiences could 
not be brought to awareness, the patient relearned to 
speak, read and write in a few weeks. Thus there was 
clearly much conservation of well learned processes out- 
side awareness. We have seen how the dissociative pa- 
ralysis of eye-movements is abolished to look at an unex- 
pected object ; and how the dissociative blindness is abol- 
ished to avoid the unexpected object. These are tokens 
of perception outside of personal consciousness. But the 
dissociation of perception and voluntary movement is 
scarcely seen outside of abnormal personalities (hysteria 
especially), or unusual situations (the battlefield). The 
dissociation of ideas, on the other hand, is of more nearly 
equal import for the normal and for the pathological 
mind. It has been possible to demonstrate the persist- 
ence and effectiveness of vast groups of memories and 
associations, not inferior in complexity to those we are 
aware of, that never enter the personal consciousness. 
This demonstration may be regarded as among the fore- 
most of psychological achievements. 

Our interpretations of mental and other phenomena 
naturally take the simplest form that will cover what we 
know. Uranus is the outermost planet until irregularities in. 
its orbit are noted. Then it is natural to infer a planet 
outside it, though we cannot see it, and it is not found until 
later. Everyone has his favorite analogies for the concep- 
tual value of the " unconscious," which is to be taken as a 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 169 

collective name for mental processes dissociated from 
awareness. 19 Prince makes use of many. 

It is a great mistake to suppose that our mental proc- 
esses are confined simply to those we are aware of. To do 
so is like thinking that, because we do not see objects 
clearly in the dark, they are but shadowy forms without 
substance. It is like interpreting the mechanism of a clock 
from its face, with no account of the works behind it. It 
is like thinking we have the fullness of a play without 
knowing what goes on behind the scenes. (Liebmann, 
quoted by Pfister.) To regard our conscious motives as 
the real reasons for our important acts is but a degree re- 
moved from the savage who thinks that the changes of the 
seasons are made by his magic. The unconscious is like 
the unfilterable virus; like the dark side of the moon; like 
the vitals of the ship which are invisible below the water 
line; like the radium emanations which cannot be experi- 
enced, but which are necessary for the interpretation of 
other phenomena. 

The bringing up to awareness of material not subject 
to voluntary recall is the simplest demonstration of dis- 
sociated persistence of ideas. We have already alluded 
to this as a feature of normal life. In addition, there are 
special conditions which bring about a great increase in 
the memories thus recalled to awareness. Prince enu- 
merates several such conditions, the simplest of which he 
calls abstraction. He means the concentration of atten- 
tion upon a particular memory (and abstraction from all 
else). The subject then allows everything that associates 
itself to this memory to come into his mind, freely and 
uncritically. Under such conditions, memories come to 
awareness which are not to be voluntarily recalled to 

19 Conscious, then, becomes synonymous with recallable to aware- 
ness at will. Thus, at this moment, I am aware that I rode to 
Worcester yesterday in a steel coach; but I am also conscious of 
a great many other events of yesterday, because I can voluntarily 
bring them to awareness. This is the most useful distinction be- 
tween consciousness and awareness for present purposes. 



170 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

awareness. The property of recalling forgotten experi- 
ences is also asserted for dreams. 

In the quantity of recovered memories, the greatest 
penetrations into the unconscious are probably made in 
hypnosis and allied states. The Hanna case of Sidis' 
may effectively be quoted in this connection. 

. . . The hypnoidisation brought forth phenomena of the 
utmost interest and value. Events, names of persons, of 
places, sentences, phrases, whole paragraphs of books totally 
lapsed from memory, ... all that flashed lightning-like 
before the patient's mind. . . . On one occasion the pacient 
was frightened by the flood of memories that rose suddenly 
. . . deluged his mind, and were expressed aloud, only to 
be forgotten the next moment. To the patient himself it 
appeared as if another being took possession of his tongue. 
. . . The probing . . . made it perfecly clear that his old 
and forgotten memories did not perish, that they were pres- 
ent to the secondary consciousness. . . . The patient acted 
out and lived through experiences long forgotten and 
buried. 20 

The first part of this passage suggests a curious simi- 
larity to the flood of ideas said to come into the mind of 
a drowning person. The interpretation would be the 
same, that the dissociated memories are again re-associ- 
ated with the personal consciousness. Other cases are 
cited in which two subjects would repeat verbatim the 
contents of " fairly long letters," where there might be 
no recollection even of having written the letters 21 
There seems to be no readily assignable limit to the 
amount of memories conserved outside of awareness. 
It cannot be asserted that any event is forgotten past the 
possibility of recall. 

Abstraction recalls lost memories and may reunite them 

20 " Psychology of Suggestion," 224-225. Unc, 75. 
21 Unc, 39. Cf. also James, " Principles," I, 681. 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 171 

permanently to the main personality, so that they are vol- 
untarily recalled thereafter. Hypnotic states also recall 
lost memories, as above, but, as a rule, unite them with 
the main personality only while the hypnosis continues. 
After it they are forgotten again. No sharp line should 
be drawn between this " abstraction " and mild hypnotic 
states. The more transient the reuniting of the lost 
memory with the main personality, the more of the hyp- 
notic element there is in the state in which it occurs. 

In such cases as these, the dissociation is established 
only by suspending it (reuniting the lost memory with 
the personal consciousness). So does one identify amber 
by dissolving it in alcohol. In some ways the more sat- 
isfactory demonstrations of the unconscious are those 
which do not bring the dissociated ideas to the awareness 
of the main personality at all. The chief evidence of this 
kind comes from automatic writing. 

We have already come upon automatic writing because it 
was found to describe experiences forgotten by the main 
personality. The bell-tower case brought up its most sig- 
nificant, though buried, memories, under automatic writ- 
ing. Another case (Prince's B. C. A.), was asked to de- 
scribe the clothes of a man she had talked to for some 
twenty minutes. Nothing was brought out except that he 
wore dark clothes. Under automatic writing (of which the 
main personality is unaware) the subject gave the follow- 
ing description, correct in all details : 22 

He has on a dark greenish gray suit, a stripe in it — 
little rough stripe; black bow-cravat; shirt with three lit- 
tle stripes in it; black laced shoes; false teeth; one finger 
gone ; three buttons on his coat. 

Forgotten portions of dreams may also be recovered in 
this way. 23 

Automatic writing is thus another means for demon- 
strating dissociated ideas. But it has a greater interest 
22 Unc, 53. 23 Unc, 59. 



172 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

for us in its own dissociated character. As in the case 
above, the content of the writing does not ordinarily enter 
the awareness of the main personality. The automatic 
writing represents a series of complex motor coordina- 
tions, back of which are a series of higher mental proc- 
esses (memories and associations), all of which proceed 
outside the control or even the awareness of the main 
personality. A smaller personal system, with memories 
and perceptions of its own, is " split off " from the main 
personality, and operates a portion of the body (that 
concerned in writing) on its own account. 
^'This control of a language-mechanism is a specially 
convenient feature of automatic writing. It can thus, 
by describing them, give a very specific and characteristic 
testimony to dissociated ideas, without their having to be 
brought to the personal consciousness. In the abstrac- 
tion and hypnotic states, they had to be brought to the 
personal consciousness to be so described. But in au- 
tomatic writing the anesthetic hand describes what stim- 
uli are applied to it — a screen being interposed so 
that the subject does not see the hand — and the main 
personality is unaware of any stimulation applied to it. 24 
This indicates again what becomes of the sensations 
which the main personality does not feel, owing to hys- 
terical anesthesia. They are dissociated from the main 
personality, but go into the unconscious, and are pre- 
served there. By releasing the unconscious, as is done in 
hypnotic states or automatic writing, the memory of these 
unfelt stimulations is manifested. 

We have now seen, first, that different motor functions 
can be dissociated from the control of the main personal- 
ity. We have seen, secondly, that sensations can be dis- 

24 Unc, 57. 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 173 

sociated from perception by the main personality. But 
both the lost sensations and movements are demonstrable 
on automatic levels, which lie out of the control of the 
main personality. We have just seen that memories may 
be dissociated from the control of the main personality, 
in that they cannot be recalled to its awareness at will. 
But the things which have been dissociated in these cases 
have still left the main personality recognizably intact. 
The main personality loses the faculty to move a leg, or 
to see with one eye, or to recall certain ideas, or to control 
the right hand, which, perhaps, is engaged in the auto- 
matic writing of these same ideas. The rest of the or- 
ganism is still normally integrated with the main person- 
ality. These dissociations, in which the material may be 
more or less well organized, but is not sufficiently great 
or well organized to overshadow the main personality, 
are called simultaneous dissociations. Their manifesta- 
tions are simultaneous with those of the main personal- 
ity. 

Automatic writing is the most complicated form in 
which simultaneous dissociation is commonly observed. 
It seems to be possible for more than the hand, perhaps 
half the body, to behave in a manner dissociated from the 
control, if not from the awareness, of the other half. 
But as a rule, if the dissociated material has a degree of 
organization like that shown in automatic writing, one 
of two things happens. 

First, the split-off ideas and trends (dissociated from 
the main personality, but well integrated among them- 
selves) displace the main personality from the control of 
the organism ; and, for a longer or shorter time, manifest 
themselves through the organism. This is called som- 
nambulism, and, in special cases, alternating or multiple 



174 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

personality. 25 It is classed as successive dissociation, be- 
cause the states dissociated from each other (main and 
other personalities), alternate in the control of the organ- 
ism. 

Second, the split-off ideas and trends manifest them- 
selves in the awareness of the main personality; but the 
dissociation consists in the fact that, although they are 
within the awareness of the main personality, the main 
personality does not regard them as a part of itself. The 
main personality feels them as intrusions upon, perhaps 
opponents to, itself. These conditions are the patholog- 
ical part of the sixth group of dissociations mentioned on 
page 157. 

We shall first take up the group in which the dissocia- 
tion is manifested in a suspension of the main personality 
from the control of the organism. The simplest of these 
is what Janet calls " fits of sleep." Their superficial ap- 
pearance is that of normal sleep of varying depth. Such 
a condition may continue for days and months in spite of 
all efforts to awaken the sleeper. Bodily functions are 
much reduced. 26 It may be difficult to determine the 
breathing or heart-action. But the lighter forms show 
unmistakable evidences of mental activity. In response 
to questions, slight movements or even verbal answers 
may be obtained. The main personality, with its sum of 
memories and behavior-patterns, is displaced from the 
control of the organism, and in its place comes the dream- 
like state. The mental content in the fits of sleep seems 

25 The writer's colleague, Dr. E. Stanley Abbot, suggests very 
pertinently that since, by definition, independent personal systems do 
not each carry all the trends of the personality, but only a portion of 
them, it is more accurate to describe them as partial personalities, 
than as multiple ones. 

26 Of course this is not literally a " somnambulism," but it be- 
longs among the processes conceived under that name. 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 175 

to be fixed upon particular and narrow episodes. In a 
girl who has been frightened by a bull, a hallucinatory bull 
pervades the fits of sleep. 27 

Thus, fits of sleep are states in which the main person- 
ality loses control over the organism's behavior ; however, 
the group of ideas which displaces the main personality 
does not get control of the behavior. The practical sus- 
pension of motor functions imparts to this dissociation a 
sleep-like character. If now the displacing group of 
ideas does have control over (becomes integrated with) 
these motor functions, the simplest result is what Janet 
calls the monoideic somnambulisms. In them, " This 
patient acts over again a scene wherein he has been bitten 
by a dog; that one reproduces in his dream the emotion 
he had when he was wounded by the falling lift. This 
little girl fancies a scene in her school life in which she 
was severely punished ; that young girl reflects the scene 
of ravishment; a young boy repeats a quarrel in the 
street; another man lives through a chapter he has read 
in a novel, where thieves get through a latticed window 
and bind him tightly to his bed. . . . He knows not 
where he is ; he has quite forgotten the changes that have 
taken place since the time he speaks of ; he often does not 
know his own name. His memory, as well as his sensa- 
tions, is shut up in a narrow circle." 28 

Like the fits of sleep, these are dissociations of a tem- 
porary character. They disappear, and behavior again 
becomes integrated with the main personality. The 
shifting of this integration from the main personality to 
the subordinate, " monoideic " system, may be very sud- 
den, or more gradual, so that it can be watched. 

Other cases are like the following : a girl simulates now 

27 Maj. Sympt., 108. 28 Maj. Sympt., 31, 35. 



176 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

a fear of a lightning flash; now the reading of a painful 
letter; now an attempt at shooting. In such cases two 
or more monoideic somnambulisms of different content 
succeed upon one another. It is, apparently, to an aggre- 
gation of monoideic somnambulisms that Janet applies 
the name polyideic somnambulisms. 29 Such cases, in 
turn, grade into the so-called fugues and multiple person- 
alities, to which we now come. 

If a person's conduct is restricted, as above, to acting 
the role of a lioness, of living through the scenes of a 
mother's death, or repeating a street quarrel, such a som- 
nambulism may control the organism, but will not support 
its life. It will not get food for the organism or do 
work. Sooner or later the organism must resume its 
functions or it will not be able to maintain itself. The 
fugues and multiple personalities are cases in which the 
dissociated system comes to include more and more ideas 
and memories, and to have more and more control over 
voluntary movement. In the fugues and multiple per- 
sonalities, this has gone so far that the dissociated system 
forms a new personality, which may be quite equal to 
the " main personality " in the ability to maintain itself 
independently. 

To illustrate the fugue: Janet's case of P, under the 
stress of worry about a family quarrel, suddenly feels as 
though struck on the back of the head. Eight days later 
he finds himself lying abjectly in the snow, half dead, in 
a distant city. In the awareness of the main personality, 
there is no memory for what has happened in the eight 
days. This is, however, recovered by special means. 
Among his actions are that he returns home, takes money, 
walks some distance, takes two railway journeys, lodges at 
a hotel in a distant city, tries unsuccessfully to get employ- 

29 Cf. t however, Maj. Sympt., 64-65. 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 177 

ment, as his money gives out lodges more cheaply ; is desti- 
tute when the main personality is restored. 

There is now need for a further sharpening of our defini- 
tions. In the beginning, we made independence the essen- 
tial criterion of dissociation. If P's actions in the fugue 
were independent of the main personality, we should then 
call them the manifestations of a dissociated state. This 
does very well so long as the dissociated material is simply 
a loss from the main personality, of some particular sen- 
sation or movement; or shows independent action by some 
particular member, like the hand in automatic writing. 
We can easily see its independence of the main personality, 
because the main personality is all the while present along- 
side of it, though unaware of it. Now we have to decide 
whether the entire organism (instead of some few parts 
of it), is in the control of the main personality, or in the 
control of a dissociated state. In the above case, the fugue- 
state certainly does things which would be abnormal for the 
man's main personality. The man was happy in his fam- 
ily life, and his wife was at the time pregnant. Should 
we, on the ground of abnormality in these actions for the 
main personality, consider that they are independent of the 
main personality, and thus dissociated from it? Logically 
it is defensible to do this, but practical considerations are 
against it. Take the fugue of the boy Rou, 30 who runs 
away from home to go to sea. On the way he hires him- 
self to an itinerant china-mender, and manages to sub- 
sist. It would be unwise to conclude the existence of a 
dissociated personality in a boy from the simple act of run- 
ning away. Suppose the boy were ill-used at home; it 
would be a fair question whether running away were not 
in accord with his main personality. The real evidence of 
dissociation in this case is, first, that during the fugue he 
thinks no more about his home : " forgets " it. The state 
is dissociated in that the thought of home, normally a daily 
and important one, now no longer comes to awareness. 
Again, as soon as the thought of home does come to aware- 
ness, away goes the memory of the fugue, and he cannot 
recall to awareness anything of how he came to be with 
the china-mender. This amnesia justifies the assumption 
of dissociation. One is much more certain of what the 

30 Maj. Sympt.j 51-53- 
13 



178 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

main personality can recall to awareness, than of what is 
in accord with the main personality. The ideas we now 
deal with are memories which the main personality can 
normally recall to awareness. The absence of their volun- 
tary recall to awareness is for us the preferable basis for 
considering a system of the higher mental processes as dis- 
sociated from the main personality. 

Accordingly, in the recognition of fugues and multiple 
personalities, the organism is controlled by a state disso- 
ciated from the main personality, either (i) when the 
main personality has no memory for events to be volun- 
tarily recalled in that state; or (2) when that state has 
no memory for events well within the voluntary recall of 
the main personality. In the above fugues, the main 
personality has, on its return, no memory for the events 
of the fugue. Also, during the fugue, there was no 
thought (or memory) of the family at home. On both 
counts, therefore, the fugues come within the definition 
of the dissociated state. 

Fugues and multiple personalities offer the principal 
demonstrations of persistence in ideas not recallable to 
awareness. Very important recollections, like those of 
the home, are for the time being lost to awareness. In 
the fugues, this loss is practically what makes the disso- 
ciated state. In the above fugues, the personality in con- 
trol of the organism acts as the main personality would 
be expected to act, if it had lost the memories which have 
actually disappeared. The dissociated state is, practi- 
cally speaking, the main personality minus certain impor- 
tant memories. These memories are relegated out of 
awareness into the unconscious. When they come up out 
of the unconscious, down go the memories of the fugue 
into the unconscious, just as one end of a scale-beam goes 
down when the other comes up. In the unconscious, the 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 179 

memories of the fugue are evidently preserved, because 
they can be elicited by the special methods (like hypnosis) 
that will explore such unconscious memories. All these 
points are illustrated in the fugues cited. 

A dissociated state controlling the voluntary behavior 
of the organism (as the fugue does) comes under the 
conception of an alternating personality by showing the 
following characteristics: (i) By maintaining itself 
for a long period. (2) By recurring for more than one 
period. (3) By showing good capacity for taking care 
of itself and the body it inhabits. (4) By showing dis- 
tinctive temperamental features. 

Multiple personality must be conceived as a shifting 
of the control of the organism from one personal con- 
sciousness to another, which is, perhaps, an equally well 
or better organized personality. Each of these per- 
sonalities is from time to time integrated with (in con- 
trol of) the voluntary activities of the organism. 
Among these mutually dissociated personalities, it is often 
unjust to single out any one as the " main " personality. 
At this point, therefore, the concept of the main person- 
ality, which has served us well thus far, ceases tem- 
porarily to be so useful. 

The Ansel Bourne case 81 is a good example of fairly 
long continuance of the dissociated personality, with good 
ability of the dissociated personality to take care of itself. 
Ansel Bourne, carpenter, later itinerant preacher, draws 
money from a bank in Rhode Island, and boards a street 
car. A dissociated personality supervenes, and continues 
for some two months, when the Bourne personality is sud- 
denly restored, with the characteristic amnesia for the 
intervening period. The dissociated personality, calling 

31 James, " Principles," I, 391-392. 



180 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

itself A. J. Brown, has clearly retained many memories 
acquired during the Bourne state. Brown can still use 
language, and travel about in such a way as not to attract 
attention. The similarity of the names attaching to the 
two states is noteworthy. Brown also appears, in speak- 
ing, to have alluded to an incident occurring during the 
Bourne state. It is difficult to define how much of 
Bourne, Brown has lost. Those things appear the most 
completely lost which have the most personal connection 
with Bourne, like his name and occupations. But, as 
though to compensate for what is lost, we find Brown 
showing trends and capacities that Bourne apparently did 
not have. Brown finds his way to a Pennsylvania town, 
opens a candy shop, and for six weeks conducts the 
business in a normal manner. Now a " shrunken, 
amnesic extract of Mr. Bourne " would hardly set up a 
new business, and maintain normal relationship to it for 
six weeks' time ; when Mr. Bourne, on his return to con- 
trol, asserts that he knows nothing about such business. 
Actually Bourne is stated not to have previously had the 
" slightest contact with trade." Thus the dissociation 
not only plunges the personal memories of Bourne into 
the unconscious, but it brings up out of the unconscious 
certain abilities which enable Brown to maintain a candy 
business. 

It was elsewhere noted that dissociated states can bring 
up large memories that are lost to the main personality. 
Particularly significant at this point is the case cited by 
Janet, of a woman who years since has forgotten the 
writing learned at school, but in whom this memory is 
recovered so that she can write during somnambulism. 32 
The alternating personalities are of interest from this 

32 Maj. Sympt., 34. 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 181 

standpoint especially; that is, the addition of something 
to the personal consciousness, previously buried in the 
unconscious. Such is the most probable interpretation 
for the shop-keeping in the Bourne case, and the restored 
writing in the somnambulism cited by Janet. The main 
facts of the situation are given in the invaluable table of 
twenty cases collated by Prince. 33 

We know already that a main personality may for a time 
lose certain important memories, whose restoration attests 
their persistence in the unconscious. This is shown in the 
fugues quoted, and in the Bourne case. There is a some- 
what different type of case, in which an apparently som- 
nambulic state is quite superior to the state upon which 
it ensues. To these Janet gives the name of dominating 
somnambulisms. They are represented in the cases of Fe- 
lida X, Marceline, Blanche Wittemann, Charles W. In the 
first three of these cases, there is a gradual reduction of 
the personality, with hysterical features (to be called II be- 
low). Thereupon, develops suddenly a personality with 
mental characteristics much superior to the previous state, 
and without the hysterical features (to be called I). When 
the previous state (II) recurs, it has no memory for the 
superior personality, i.e., for I. I remembers all of II, 
and is temperamentally superior to II. II remembers noth- 
ing of I, and is temperamentally inferior. From Janet's 
comment on Felida and Marceline (Maj. Sympt., 89-91) it 
would seem that the gradual reduction of the personality 
shown in II was a gradual dissociation of characteristics 
which the personality originally had. The superior, domi- 
nating state, represents the restoration to the personality of 
these dissociated tendencies. That is, I adds nothing to 
the personality which had never before been a part of the 
personality; but I brings back many things which had been 
lost before the change of I into II. 

The features of the fourth case above, Charles W., are 
in accord with this view. In this case, II appears sud- 
denly after a railroad accident, and shows many psycho- 
pathic features. This state appears to have had no memory 
for childhood. It lasted for 17 years, during which the 

33 Journ. Abn. Psychol, I (1906-1907), facing p. 186. 



182 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

occupations of farming, operating a sawmill, and painting 
were followed. Then the state corresponding to I above 
ensues suddenly, following shock. This appears to be the 
original personality, for it has the early memories up to the 
development of II, and is without the psychopathic traits. 
It differs from the others in that there was no memory for 
the seventeen years of II, including the trade learned as II. 
Thus in these dissociations, memories and characteristics 
are added to the personality, which were not in the per- 
sonality at the time of the change; like the shopkeeping of 
Brown. We need hardly suppose, however, that these 
features had never been part of the main personality. The 
case of Charles W. rather indicates that I is simply a 
restoration of what had been in the main personality -(if not 
always, at least at some time) before the reductions of II 
began to take place. In this case, however, the personality 
of I soon broke down again, and the individual was lost 
sight of. 34 

It appears too, that these changes of personality have 
to be described in other terms than those of amnesia for 
things recallable to the awareness of the other personal- 
ity. There are temperamental differences whicn are not 
accounted for by the differences in what each personality 
can recall to awareness. Thus, in Felida, 35 both I and II 
have the memory of the early normal life. Yet, on the 
basis of these memories attributed to each at the start, 
II is " sad, morose, spiteful, taciturn, making violent 
scenes," while I is " gay, happy, attending to duties like 
a normal person." (Prince.) Here the dissociations 
and integrations seem to have affected other functions 
besides memories to be recalled to awareness. 

There is another — and very much larger — group of 
changes of personality, which it now becomes instructive 
to compare with the cases just under consideration. This 

34 Mayer, Journ. Amer. Med. Assoc. (Dec. 14, 1901), 1601-1605. 

35 Cf. Azam, " Hypnotisme, double conscience, etc.," Paris (1887), 
63-69. 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 186 

is the so-called manic-depressive psychosis. A form of 
it once had the name of " circular insanity," from the 
regular alternations of personality it produced. The 
comparison between it and the dissociated personalities, 
for the features of concern to us, is tabulated below. 
For convenience, the corresponding characteristics of de- 
mentia praecox, another important psychosis, are ap- 
pended, as we are about to take up the dissociative char- 
acters of this condition also. 

For the moment we have to do only with the dissoci- 
ated personalities and the manic-depressive states. The 
chief distinction between the two is that, in the dissoci- 
ated personalities, the character of the different states is 
very much more dependent on differences in the memories 
which come to awareness in the different states. In the 
manic-depressive conditions, the altered states are more 
dependent on changes in mood, which is notoriously inde- 
pendent of the memories recallable to awareness. May 
it not be that Felida, who in many ways combines the 
features of dissociated personality and manic-depressive 
psychosis, manifests a connecting link between the two? 
In the first, inferior state of Felida, she shows a reduced 
and depressed personality because there are, dissociated 
from the personality, certain elements which make for its 
happiness and general efficiency. In the second state she 
is more happy and efficient, because these elements are 
again integrated with the personality. But, in neither the 
superior nor the inferior state, is there any awareness of 
these elements. In both states they are unconscious, 
while at the same time having a profound effect upon the 
mood. The lesson that Felida and the other cases which 
parallel her in this respect carry is, that dissociative (and 
redintegrating) processes can induce changes of mood 



184 



MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 



without corresponding changes in the content of aware- 
ness. The process inducing changes of mood operates 



Onset 
of attack 



Dissociated 
Personality 
More frequently- 
sudden, even mo- 
mentary, but may 
be gradual. 



Manic-depressive 

Psychosis 
Regularly gradual, 
through weeks or 
months, rarely 

sudden. 



Dementia Praecox 
Regularly insidious, cov- 
ering months or years. 



Memory 



Amnesias the dom- 
inant feature ; 
each state may 
have memory for 
itself alone (re- 
ciprocal amnesia), 
or one state may 
have memory for 
others which have 
no memory for it. 
All this in the 
presence of mental 
clearness during 
the individual 
states. 



No disturbance of 
memory for pe- 
riods in which the 
patient is mentally 
clear. If there ap- 
pear incidents of 
confusion or de- 
lirium, memory 
for these is poor. 
Except for these 
episodes, memory 
is as continuous 
as with the nor- 
mal person. 



Memory continuous. If 
there appear incidents of 
confusion or delirium, 
memory for these is apt to 
be good. Apparent poor- 
ness of memory often due 
to failure to cooperate in 
examination, or failure to 
register impressions, from 
lack of interest in exter- 
nal surroundings. 



Mood 



Changes somewhat 
between states, 
and along more 
various lines, not 
within such wide 
limits as in manic- 
depressive psy- 
chosis. 



Change of mood 
the dominant fea- 
ture. Varies along 
definite lines, 

from extreme eu- 
phoria to extreme 
melancholy. 



Growing apathy toward 
ordinary interests of life. 
Sometimes, also, extreme 
affective reactions to 
trivial circumstances. 

(" Ataxia of emotion.") 
Supposedly phenomena of 
transference and affective 
symbolism. 



Halluci- 
nations 



Denied by Janet 
for the fugue. 
Not a prominent 
feature. 



Reported with 

some frequency, 
but seem more de- 
pendent on misin- 
terpretation of ac- 
tual sensations, 
i. e., resembling il- 
lusions. Little 
systematized. 



Hallucinations the domi- 
nant feature. " The 
Voices." Of continuous 
occurrence, often showing 
high organization in their 
mental content. 



altogether in the unconscious. We may say therefore, 
that dissociations of personality and manic-depressive 
states are founded upon two distinct types of dissoci- 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 185 

ation. 36 In dissociations of personality, as typified by 
the Ansel Bourne case, what was recallable to awareness 
is thrust out of recallability to awareness and later 
brought back into it again. It is an interchange between 
the memories accessible to awareness, and the memories 
not so accessible (which latter go to make up the uncon- 
scious). The manic-depressive psychoses are not, in this 
sense, dissociations of personality. The changes of 
mood which distinguish them are induced by another 
type of dissociation, which breaks up existing associations 
and forms new associations, among the mental processes 
(trends) of which we are not aware, i.e., those of the 
unconscious. These changes in the unconscious are what 
effect the changes in mood. Prince recounts the experi- 
mental production of such a change. Thus, a happy 
attitude toward the weather, suggested under hypnosis, 
persists after the hypnosis, when the fact of suggestion is 
no longer recallable to awareness. The unconscious ideas 
manifest themselves in consciousness by a characteristic 
change in the mood. 37 Felida shows the type of disso- 
ciation between conscious and unconscious in that II loses 
the memories of I; she shows the type of dissociation 
among unconscious trends in that II gains, without cor- 
responding access of awareness, a mood which the other 
personality lacked. 38 

We have thus far examined: (i) Dissociations of in- 
fra-cerebral processes (mostly normal). (2,3) Dissoci- 

36 With reference to these points, Cf. August Hoch, " A Study 
of the Benign Psychoses," Johns Hopkins Hosp. Bui., 26 (1915), 165- 
169. 

37 Unc, 67. 

38 It might be reasoned, of course, that I was induced by the 
dissociation of certain inhibitions from II, instead of by a redin- 
tegration of activity to I. Either view accords with interpreting 
the mood change as a dissociation wholly in the unconscious. The 
view of the text is the simpler and more natural one. 



186 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

ations (mostly pathological), like the hysterical anes- 
thesias and paralyses, of peripheral bodily processes which 
are regularly conscious. (4) Dissociations from aware- 
ness of central processes (ideas, memories) and their 
special expressions like automatic writing. (4) Dissoci- 
ations of ideas that suspend the main personality from 
the control of the organism, and use the organism to 
live out their own trends (somnambulisms). Also highly 
organized dissociated systems which maintain the or- 
ganism indefinitely in a dissociated character (multiple 
personalities). (5a) Dissociations and integrations not 
directly affecting the content of awareness, but operating 
especially in the unconscious (inducing mood changes as 
in manic-depressive conditions). 

We reach the sixth of the groups of page 157; namely, 
those in which the dissociation is expressed in the foreign 
attitude of the main personality toward a special portion 
of the ideas of which it is aware. 

Every thought in the awareness of a normal person 
is accepted by that person as one of " his " own thoughts. 
Thus the thought is integrated with the main personality. 
In the instances thus far cited, nothing has been dissoci- 
ated from the main personality except by existing outside 
of it in the unconscious. In the cases now to be con- 
sidered, thoughts occur of which the subject is aware and 
which he can minutely describe, yet without normal inte- 
gration with the main personality. The main personal- 
ity regards such thoughts as foreign to itself. The pre- 
cise attitude it takes toward these intrusive thoughts va- 
ries in different cases, as the illustrations show. 

A very slight dissociation from the main personality, 
difficult to formulate in general terms, is concretely shown 
in Case F. Of the ideas mentioned on page 64, he says 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 187 

that they come through his mind talking to him. This 
is the initial step in such dissociation : the separating of his 
mind and him. He, the main personality, listens, while his 
mind suggests things to him. This mind-talk does not 
have tone-quality, comes merely as thoughts. He gave the 
Japan-Hawaii material (p. 64) as an example of the 
mind-talk. In the garden he picks up stones which are 
inspired; they are dropped by ravens as a reward for 
working out the " No. 3 system " which his mind evolved. 
In speaking of other ideas, " It seemed as if my spirit or 
soul or something had separated or segregated. ,, 

Case L speaks of some abnormal actions, like sudden fall- 
ing down, as being produced by " dictates." These dictates, 
again, are foreign to the main personality, but still included 
within the patient's psychic organism. He says he did not 
know why he would fall down ; he simply had to ; that he 
received " sort of dictates " which he had to follow, though 
denying that anyone put thoughts into his mind or made 
him do things. " I did not faint, but sort of swooned. 
... I was not unconscious " ; and, very descriptively, " I 
could have spoken if I had wanted to, but my dictates would 
not let me." He " received dictates to fall ; something in 
my own mind tells me to fall. I don't hurt myself because 
I know it is coming. A persistent dictate kept at me until 
I fell. I couldn't get up at once because the dictate wouldn't 
let me. I know it was ridiculous but I was compelled to 
do it. The same thing comes over me in all these 
spells." 

In ordinary speech, we talk of " thoughts coming into " 
our minds, in language not very different from that cited. 
The difference is, that we correct our thoughts if they 
are foolish, like F's; or do not respond to their orders, 
as L does. In F and L the main personality has not this 
control; hence their ideas are said to be dissociated. 

Case A describes the incidence of the dissociated ideas 
as a " grilling " of her mind, but of a pleasurable char- 
acter. No special incident that occasioned its beginning 
was recalled. " It just popped into my head the same as 
other things do. . . . It was very pleasant. In the morn- 



188 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

ing, all through my morning work, it was just company for 
me. It was all my imagination, I can say that, but it was 
very pleasant. (Was it ever annoying?) Sometimes, if 
I would wake in the night.'' However in general, " It was 
helpful. ... It would remind me of things, or it would 
say things to me ; perhaps it was semiconsciousness. But if 
I was going out, it would say, ' Now, Mrs. A., have you got 
the key in your pocket-book ? ' Or, ' Do what will please 
Mr. A/ or ' Try to please X.' It was a voice, an imaginary 
voice. I know I encouraged it and let it grow on me." 

Although in these remarks the patient does not refer 
the grilling to any source outside herself, she elsewhere 
refers it to the influence of certain men whom she names. 
A patient will now refer such ideas to another person, 
now recognize them as proceeding from his own organ- 
ism, though not as part of the main personality. There 
is no break between the dissociations which are " pro- 
jected " outside the individual and those which are not. 
There is entire continuity between the various interpreta- 
tions. 

The following Case D presents these features with 
more introspective detail, and with some tendency to ex- 
ternalize the ideas, i.e., refer them to other persons. 
There are also the beginnings of unpleasant content in 
the dissociated trends. It should be remarked that the 
diagnosis in this case is Graves' Disease, which is an in- 
toxication from the thyroid gland. There is a definite 
physiological poisoning related to the dissociation. 

Upon convalescence from an acute attack the patient tells, 
retrospectively, how she heard voices of her friends talk- 
ing to her; she saw, and talked with them. At one time 
hearing the voice of a man who was dead, she thought it 
must be his spirit talking. She held a long conversation 
with her mother, her uncle and her aunt who are dead; 
they advised her what to do. Finally, when the nurse told 
her these were hallucinations, she was able to believe it; 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 189 

and after that, although the voices continued audible for a 
while, later they lost their audible quality, and occurred 
merely as thoughts coming into her mind. (A lessening 
of the dissociation, approaching more nearly the previous 
observations of Cases F and L.) "I still have a lot of 
stray thoughts in my head — a lot of words that I can't 
express. I often talk to myself and say things I don't 
mean. They are inaudible, just loose words floating in my 
head. . . . They don't represent me at all, they don't rep- 
resent what I think, but they don't now take the place of 
anyone else talking. ... I know they are my thoughts in 
my own head." 

At the onset of another and ultimately severer attack, 
this case began to be similarly troubled with auditory hal- 
lucinations, into which she preserved some insight. She 
knows they are voices in her head, not people talking 
(though they have sound qualities) ; and there seems to be 
a constant soliloquy going on in her head. At times it is as 
if she is the third person sitting back and listening to the 
conversation between two other people. Sometimes the 
voices were entertaining, like a continuous performance 
without any volition on her part. But often the contents 
are all about "disgusting sexual subjects"; accompanied 
by visual hallucinations of sexual organs. She reiterates, 
" They are not voices really; I am just carrying on a con- 
versation with myself." 39 

The dissociated ideas are more often referred to 
sources external to the patient. Their content may be in- 
different, or even pleasant, to the main personality, but 
is more commonly repulsive. 

At a concert which Case L attended about the beginning 
of his illness, he saw a girl toward whom he had a secret 
attachment. As he sat, people made remarks in a nice 
way about him ; they could read his mind and knew he loved 
the girl and had loved her for two years ; seemed to know 
it was a sort of lovesickness he had. One remark was, 
" A pair of beautiful flowers " ; another, " L is very good 

39 Just as in a dream, when one holds conversations with other 
persons, it is really dissociated systems of the dreamer's own 
mind that are conversing. 



190 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

and well guarded." So far as the perceptions in this epi- 
sode are concerned, they may well be illusions. Something 
was said, which the patient misunderstandingly referred 
to himself. He externalizes, or "projects" (p. 188), his 
own erotic ideas to people outside him. He hears them 
say things which accord with those ideas. When a patient 
falsely and foolishly refers experiences to himself, he is said 
to have " ideas of reference." Ideas of reference are es- 
pecially marked in dementia praecox, as compared with 
other forms of mental disease. They are allied to the actual 
hallucinations, in that they "project" a trend of the pa- 
tient's own mind. 

Case M represents the process in a more definitely hallu- 
cinatory form. She too, however, begins by saying that 
during the last three or four years she has been " peculiarly 
sensitive to sounds." They seemed to be the voices of 
people, of men or women that she used to know years ago. 
Sometimes they said pleasant things so that she would 
laugh ; at other times they seemed to say what she was 
thinking or doing. Sometimes they seemed to crowd one 
another so closely that one " could almost feel them." If 
she is making the bed, they talk about the bed linen and all 
the marks on it. If she is washing dishes, they will tell 
all the marks on the silver, etc. It is very annoying and 
she has tried all sorts of things to get rid of them. She 
does not like to go to theatres because the voices said things 
to her so loud that she thought they might go from her mind 
to other people's minds. Sometimes she thinks she will do 
a thing and then does something else so that they will not 
always know w T hat she is going to do. 

The dissociated ideas may be attributed, not to other 
human beings, but to supernatural sources. Case N 
furnishes a typical example of this. When the Divine 
Mind first commenced to speak to him, he did not actually 
hear the voices, but the thoughts were merely put into his 
mind. The ideas are suggested to him. The Divine 
Mind told him he was to be head of a great corporation; 
also the sun, moon and stars sent him messages con- 
firming what the Divine Mind had told him. 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 191 

Asked if he did not feel like eating, he said, not in the 
way the Divine Mind told him to. The Divine Mind told 
him to Fletcherize ; while he, himself, felt like " pitching in 
and eating a good square meal." He was directed to take 
no tea and coffee, and to take milk instead ; and the Divine 
Mind had duck-eggs sent to the table instead of hens' eggs. 
He mentioned having met a distinguished, and at that time 
deceased, capitalist at a previous institution; and when 
asked how long he had been there he paused and said : " I 
do not care to say. The Divine Mind said I did wrong to 
mention it at all." 

This case (N), and also Case L, illustrate that ideas 
may be externalized without being repudiated by the main 
personality. Such voices are " friendly/' often from su- 
pernatural sources, and inform the main personality of 
items which it accepts; while others are "hostile," and 
inform the main personality of items which it repudiates. 
Case J below is told by the voice of Christ that J was for- 
merly Pericles; and he believes it. (Friendly, accepted 
"voice.") On the other hand, vile words are put into 
his mind from other sources. (Hostile "voices," re- 
pudiated.) The mind-talk of Case F was also at one 
time referred by him to divine inspiration. 40 

Voices with a content of varying affect are present in 
Case B. They were observed for some eighteen months, 
during which they became rather more prominent. When 
first asked to describe them, she said the one which talked 
the most was a former physician. The voices said all kinds 
of things ; many of them were very disagreeable. Some- 
times they were funny, and she would laugh at them. She 
gave only indifferent examples, as Thank you and Merry 

40 Significant in this connection is Mill's definition of mysticism 
as "neither more nor less than the ascribing of objective existence 
to the subjective creations of the mind, and believing that by 
watching and contemplating these ideas of its own making it can 
read what takes place in the world without." It is most aptly 
that Dr. Moses adds his own conception of mysticism as an "at- 
tempt to put asunder what God hath joined together." Path. A. 
Rel, 69, 129. 



192 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Christmas. Later the troublesome element became more 
prominent; she heard her intimate friends say bad things 
to her, things that she could not bear. When these same 
people came to visit her, they did not talk at all in this way ; 
she could not understand this. Later she remarked that the 
voices said funnier things than they used to, that they told 
her jokes, and she could not help laughing at them. As 
previously, however, they continue to call her a " bad 
woman." She is noted to start with terror at some fright- 
ful things she hears, again cries at some slandering thing, 
and again bursts forth in laughter at something funny. 

Here the dissociated ideas are unquestioningly re- 
ferred to other persons, who are identified; and the dis- 
agreeable element in them is more prominent than in the 
previous cases. 

The following Case C has been under observation for 
some fifteen years. She presents a wealth of the phe- 
nomena under discussion, with special introspective de- 
tail. The dissociated ideas are indifferent, comic or re- 
pulsive. She shows also the continuity between 
" thoughts " and " voices," as well as between the dif- 
ferent grades of externalizing or " projecting " them, 
i.e., attributing them to outside sources. In this last 
respect, the first beginnings of the dissociation are trace- 
able two or three years before hospital care. At that 
time, instead of showing a normal sociability, she would 
sit alone in her room, apparently daydreaming, and in 
explanation said something about her bad thoughts. 
Even when the psychosis is clearly established, she con- 
tinues to recognize the ideas as belonging to herself, 
saying : 

" I get into different trains of thought and carry them 
right along. You want to say something and something 
else comes right in/' That is, she feels some of her think- 
ing to be dissociated from voluntary control. As she puts 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 193 

it, more clearly than another person should attempt to do: 
" I can't seem to get my mind together. There — I can't — 
seem to — to — control my imagination, it is imagining a lot 
of peculiar things. . . . The things I like to do I can't pos- 
sibly do, but I think of these vague things I can't possibly 
do." But the beginnings of projection are also present in 
the following : " Why I should think of these things I don't 
know. Something seems to push my mind into a channel 
I don't want it to be in. ... I seem to be bound to find out 
a lot of things I am not interested in as if some one was 
teasing me." No definite externalization here, " something " 
causes it ; " as if " someone did so. But the projection is 
nevertheless establishing itself. " I think some one has 
taken the liberty of transmitting thoughts into my mind that 
I know nothing about." Seven months later the projection 
is clear. " They put a lot of stuff into my head that I don't 
want there at all." 

Two months later still, nurses and those about her 
figure as the authors of the ideas, and subsequently a 
man, who is, however, an indefinite figure. She describes 
how her personal consciousness is interfered with in its 
trains of thought. She has much difficulty in starting 
anything. Even when she got started she could not tell 
what to say; some queer notion would crop out that she 
had not intended to speak about. Thus she was pre- 
vented from performing a calculation test : " Don't you 
see, it won't start at all." Other expressions are : 

" I can't remember things. When I try to, so many inter- 
ruptions come in that my mind seems to be all broken up." 
" My mind doesn't always make connections. . . . Some- 
thing makes a blank in my mind and I can't connect any- 
thing." " Don't you see, when a lot of ideas come to you 
that you don't want to know anything about, it is not very 
pleasant." Before admission to the hospital, she had ex- 
pressed the feeling that her " brain wouldn't work." Early 
in the psychosis, she expressed this feeling of interference 
with her normal thought in some very instructive analogies : 

My mind seems to be in layers like strata in geology." 
14 



194 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

" It's like going through a river, where there are a lot of 
weeds and they get in your way and you can't get through." 
" Sometimes I seem all of a sudden to sink right down into 
deep thought as though I were covered up in a snow- 
bank." 41 

" It is like the difference between a good and a bad person. 
If I could gather up a good will it would be all right. In- 
stead these vague ideas seem to be wandering around as if 
they were going through a sort of labyrinth." 

As to the form in which these dissociated ideas were 
presented to her, she says that there are many " voices," 
sometimes audible, sometimes only thoughts. There is 
certainly no sharp distinction. As to what the ideas 
were about, one does not obtain so clear an account as 
her excellent formal descriptions of them would promise. 
Early in the psychosis, she expressed a difficulty in re- 
taining them: " O, it's gone from me if I don't tell it 
at once." Such amnesia is not characteristic of dementia 
praecox, however. 

Among the special topics she described were : 

" All at once I seemed to wish somebody would die. I 
didn't mean it, you know. . . ." " You stop putting that 
inclination to pull my hair out into my mind." (To a nurse) 
" Stop tempting me to break things ! " "A cruel mind goes 
through my head." " The story of Faust came to me and 
I could not get it out of my mind." The last two of these 
are externalized ; the first three are referred to herself, but 
independently of her voluntary control. When the ideas 
are comic, they are not clearly externalized : " I get some 
awfully funny ones, I seem to be quoting somebody. . . ." 
(Laughing without obvious cause) " Well, that's the funni- 
est thing I ever heard of in my life. What a joke ! " Sev- 

41 Some of these expressions of " mental standstill," as August 
Hoch called them, suggest the " Third Night " state of St. John 
of the Cross, where " memory and will perish. The soul floats 
corpse-like on the waters of Lethe. The sense of time and space 
is lost; the feelings, the intellect and the emotions are dead; the 
personality has completely evaporated ; in brief the patient (sic) 
is a perfect blank." Path. A. ReL, 97-98. 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 195 

eral allusions are made to repulsive ideas. These are uni- 
formly externalized. She becomes irritable at times, says 
she cannot stand it any longer, if they persist in putting such 
bad thoughts into her mind : " Vile is no name for them." 
(What about?) " You know quite well." " They are tak- 
ing away my innocent mind — they are putting vile thoughts 
into my mind." (Wheeling on the nurse) " How dare you 
say I am not decent?" (Nurse had not spoken.) " What 
do you mean, all you devils, causing me to stay awake? I 
shall be crazy soon, listening to all these vile things you are 
putting into my head." Again speaks of their destroying 
her young, innocent mind. She thinks people say nasty 
things to her, swear at her and put bugs on her. Recently, 
there is a record of a similar visual hallucination, of " dis- 
agreeable figures rushing through the air." 

Case J is characterized by dissociated ideas of ex- 
tremely repulsive content, which he externalizes, and 
toward which he reacts with strong emotions of disgust. 
It is said that a few days previous to his hospital ad- 
mission he began to imagine that people were talking 
about him, that they made bad remarks and made him 
think bad things. When brought for examination his 
look was angry, and his whole demeanor threatening. 
Yet when he was civilly addressed by the physician, a 
comparatively gentlemanly reaction came from beneath 
this exterior. At times he even smiled pleasantly, speak- 
ing with a very natural and deferential manner. Ap- 
parently it was not toward the examiners that his angry 
feelings were directed, but rather toward the repulsive 
ideas coming involuntarily into his mind. 

Thus during the interview he would suddenly look very 
angry again. With a fierce scowl he would turn his head 
aside and utter a curse. Asked the reason, he said it was 
because they were driving thoughts into his brain. Asked 
what kind of thoughts, he said they were words like (sugere, 
futuere), and similar disgusting things. Frequently he took 
his handkerchief, held it some inches from his mouth, and 



196 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

spat into it. He said that when they drove those things into 
his brain it made him so disgusted that he had to spit. 
Once, when he missed his handkerchief, he promptly apolo- 
gized and wiped up the sputum, showing again that his oppo- 
sition was not directed toward the examiners. At another 
time when he swore, he told the examiner that it was not 
meant for him, but for the thoughts. In one remark he 
seemed to vaguely realize the dissociated condition of his 
ideas. He mentioned that in right-handed people the left 
side of the brain has to do with certain activities; but if it 
gets out of order, the other side of the brain may be edu- 
cated to perform those activities. The left side of his brain 
he said had gone to pieces, and the right side was now be- 
ginning to take up the functions of the left. But the left 
side still " worked some " ; with the result that the two 
halves of his brain were working against each other and 
getting everything " all balled up." 

Case F has already offered from the early stages of his 
psychosis, examples of a slight dissociation (the " mind- 
talk"), not yet externalized. Later, he brings out other 
ideas than those described (pp. 63ft") , and these he ex- 
ternalizes. He has also a much more complicated notion 
of the way in which the ideas are given him, than the 
previous cases show. He is apparently a sort of medium, 
which any other mind (the "spirits") may enter, and 
express itself through him. In his own words : 

The spirit world is pretty active. . . . My life is appar- 
ently in the hands of others the way I am situated now, and 
I do not see how I am to help myself any way. I feel as 
if I were supporting this column of spirit realm, as you 
might say, and I was wondering if hundreds of other spirits 
came into it, if I could stand the tension. Anyone's which 
comes into my life (may enter) ; they can make up strange 
faces and cover their identity in that way. Anyone may 
come into the spiritual world under certain conditions. Any 
spirit that enters this realm can gauge the clearness and dis- 
tinctness of the form.; they can make themselves plain, or 
just give you an idea of what they are doing. . . . How all 
these spirits can enter my person is a wonderful thing, espe- 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 197 

cially when they are nowhere near one. They enter my 
forehead and go all through my body. The spirits show 
themselves through voices, forms, and various practices; 
they are very clever about some of their practices and cover 
them up. Now I am sort of " carrying the load " as you 
might say, and anyone who uses this spirit realm ought to 
be fair enough to keep out of my sight ; I don't want to see 
all this business. . . . Another thing, these people are total 
strangers to me, and if this business is going to keep me 
from engaging in remunerative employment, there is going 
to be some remuneration, because I'm not running a free 
lunch counter ! 

In our previous instances, dissociated ideas have been 
expressed in terms of thoughts or voices. In addition to 
these, we find F now speaking of forms and various prac- 
tices. Evidence has been given that the distinction be- 
tween the dissociated thoughts and voices is one of degree 
only. So long as a dissociated idea seems to come from 
within the person, it naturally takes the form of a thought. 
But, if it is regarded as coming from outside, projected, 
externalized, then it naturally takes the form of a voice, 
because voices are the most vivid way in which ideas 
actually come to us from without. This is why voices 
are so preeminent a feature of dementia praecox. De- 
mentia praecox is par excellence the psychosis of dissoci- 
ated ideas, 42 and dissociated ideas regarded as coming 
from the outside are most naturally thought of as voices. 
Once projected, the idea takes on linguistic form, and 
that of spoken rather than written language. Case F 
shows, by the way, a rare instance of written language 
occurring in this way, for he says elsewhere, 

She can flash a card with things printed on it ; orders, or 
whatever she wants to say. At things I read I have taken 
off my hat and done lots of things to carry out her orders. 

42 Bleuler has given it the more descriptive name of schizo* 
phrenia. 



198 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

In the dissociated thoughts and voices the patient is 
made to think or hear of some idea independently of his 
own will. The " forms and various practices " go be- 
yond the stage of projected ideas which have only a lin- 
guistic expression. Thus, instead of merely being called 
a " vile name," the patient hallucinates the performance 
upon himself of the action the name implies. Instead of 
thoughts or voices, he has the hallucinatory experience 
of what the thoughts and voices express. Of the woman 
above-mentioned he says: 

She transmits smells, like Limburger cheese. Also the 
smell of the organs, the human organs. Well, I don't know 
as it is Limburger cheese, but something very offensive ; but 
then I can do the same thing to her if I wanted to. (Later) 
Yesterday there was a peculiar odor that was transmitted, 
that was very unpleasing. It was a very musty and mouldy 
odor. . . . They put objects in front of me, things that are 
displeasing. I think that ought to be stopped. ( ?) Per- 
sonal matters. (?) Now yesterday afternoon (he de- 
scribes in colloquial terms how " they " projected before him 
the vision of the erect penis of another patient, continually 
endeavoring to place it in his mouth) and that was not very 
pleasant. Then I have had operations flashed in front of 
me, but they did me the favor not to make them very dis- 
tinct ; they could make them pretty plain if they wanted to, 
and they tried to, but I retaliated by giving them one or two 
occurrences that had come into my life. 

Few words could express better than these the division 
of the patient's mind against itself. Later he describes 
a little more concretely how he conceives it. 

" I'm surrounded by a field of diffuse magnetism, and of 
course when a person enters the field, whatever he pictures 
or impresses mentally is reflected in the magnetic field, in 
volume or density as the participant wishes." The patient 
involved in the incident above " entered his spirit or form in 
the field by his imagination or thoughts. He was in his room 
really and it was a good joke for him. ... I don't want my 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 199 

head full of such foul stuff; dirty words, thoughts and 
actions. I can't cut this power off. I pray night and day 
to stop being a sewer, a reservoir of indecent thoughts, words 
and actions. . . ." 

Thus Case F exhibits dissociated ideas appearing as 
the patient's own " mind-talk," as outside voices imposed 
upon him, and as hallucinatory experiences of various 
kinds, to which he is subjected. He shows a full variety 
of the types of dissociation that ordinarily take place with 
the subject aware of them all the while. He shows them 
merging one into another. Case H, which follows, 
bridges the gap between this dementia praecox type of 
dissociation and the dissociation of the somnambulistic, 
multiple personality type. The essential thing in the de- 
mentia praecox type is that the dissociation is manifested 
within the awareness of the main personality. It hears 
the " voices," and is amused or annoyed by them. The 
body performs this or that impulsive act, without the in- 
tention, perhaps against the intention, of the main per- 
sonality. Somnambulistic dissociation implies a longer 
and more complete suspension of the main personality 
from the voluntary control of the organism. This volun- 
tary control is assumed by the dissociated state. There 
should also be an amnesia of one of these states for the 
other. In Case H which follows we shall see combined 
the dementia praecox and somnambulistic features. In 
her, another mind system (somnambulistic) takes control 
of the body, at intervals, and operates it independently 
and against the wishes of the main personality. Yet the 
main personality is not in absolute abeyance; it is aware 
of what is going on though powerless to interfere (de- 
mentia praecox). 

In the beginning, Case H manifests dissociated 



200 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

thoughts and voices in ways now familiar. For exam- 
ple, 

She speaks at first of ideas often coming to her, without 
externalization, or indeed, so far as this expression goes, 
abnormal dissociation. But further, " Sometimes it seems 
as though the voices were a person, and again a voice right 
in my form. For a long time I had the impression that it 
was in my body, but now I feel that they are using my voice. 
... It is not in my mind; it is as if they were using my 
tongue and lips.'* At first the voices are dissociated from 
the main personality, but still within the body; later pro- 
jected. For laughing without reason, " O, I was just listen- 
ing to the voices." She cannot (or will not) always remem- 
ber what the voices say. (Cf. p. 136.) Among other 
things they have called her the Mother of God, Joan of Arc, 
Catherine of Siena ; have told her her mother and sister are 
dead, though she knows it is not so. The voices are not 
always the same ; sometimes two are heard contending with 
one another. They tell her to do various things, mostly of 
some inconvenience to herself, such as sitting with her back 
against the rods of the bedstead, or refusing to take a bath 
though she wants one. " The voices told me it was wrong 
to lie on the mat, ... so I got up, but later they said it 
was all right so I did lie on it." She speaks of a " conflict 
of forces " in her mind : " One seems to want to help me 
get out of the hospital . . . and the other does not want me 
to get well." " The voices call me all sorts of horrid names, 
and I try not to listen to them. . . . Let me listen ! Some- 
thing just called me by a horrible name." She had been 
hearing voices of father, brother and other people. At first 
they were pleasant, later said she was Eve, and the cause of 
all the sensuality in the world. ..." I can hear those voices 
tempting me to do wrong, and I try so hard not to listen 
to them. ... I do so want to be a pure woman and live a 
pure life." 

In the subsequent stages of her illness, she describes 
herself as taken possession of by another state, which she 
calls the automatic. We have no introspective record of 
the automatic's mental processes, but its behavior was 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 201 

such that it could evidently carry out purposive actions. 
It represented an extremely irritable mood, not accessible 
to introspective analysis. 

The first sign of this dissociation of voluntary control 
is from an early period of the illness, going much further 
back than any record of the automatic. Speaking in a 
rather high tone, she says : 

" This is not my natural voice ; it is a white sisterhood 
woman controlling me ; that is one way they speak to me, by 
controlling my tongue as they control mediums." 

She gave her first account of the automatic expressions 
in explaining some outbursts of irritability. " It is not I 
who do these things, it is the automatic." ... It was as if 
someone else took possession of her ; when she struck any- 
one, it was like the automatic striking out with a wooden 
arm. She was conscious of it like a looker-on. She knew 
what was done, saw what was done, but could not appreciate 
that she was doing it, nor the import of it. " It is as if I 
was half conscious." She denies that it is due to influence 
(externalized), says it is simply the automatic working 
through her ; and in regard to abusive talk, " that is not I, it 
is the automatic talking." She apologizes for her behavior, 
saying she had nothing to do with it ; it was the automatic 
which controlled her. (The actions of the automatic are 
actually quite contrary to her character before illness, or her 
main personality in the psychosis.) 

In describing the relations between the main personality 
and the automatic, she says it is as if she were outside, far 
away, looking at the automatic. She remembers thoroughly 
what the automatic does. On the other hand, she says 
(voluntarily) that the automatic does not know H (herself), 
and has no memory or connection with H. This really 
means that H's main personality, while it can watch the 
automatic at work, has no knowledge of the automatic's 
mental processes ; the " automatic " actions indicate that 
it may have some connection with her, though one of opposi- 
tion. For example, she wrote little sayings, and put them 
where she could see them to help her control herself when 
the automatic comes. The automatic came and tore them 
all up, also some dress-patterns which she especially wanted. 



202 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

She wants to be nice to people, and the automatic attacks 
them, even her own husband. 

In addition to the voluntary movements concerned in 
these actions, the automatic has the use of language. It 
is apparent that the automatic retains some memories 
acquired by H, but how much cannot be said with cer- 
tainty. We cannot be sure that the automatic destroyed 
the dress-patterns or attacked the husband, particularly 
because H desired otherwise. The automatic is too uni- 
versally destructive and abusive for this. The mental 
level of the automatic is rather that of the somnambu- 
listic than of the full-fledged alternating personality. 
But in addition to the dissociated system which makes 
up the automatic, a shred of the main personality per- 
sists all the while, noting what is going on. The disso- 
ciation is an unusual combination of somnambulistic with 
" schizophrenic " features. 43 As Felida links the alter- 
nating personalities to the manic-depressive conditions 
(p. 183), so does H show their continuity with dementia 
praecox. 

In sum, the sixth type of dissociation (trends not inte- 
grated with the main personality, though the main per- 
sonality is aware of them) is shown by the above cases in 
the following forms: 

a. Case F. His mind talks to him; does not have tone 
quality. 

b. Case L. " Dictates " to perform certain actions ; not 
supposed to come from outside. 

c. Case L. Projection of ideas in accord with the main 
personality, hearing them reflected in the speech of other 
persons. 

43 A remarkable account of simultaneous dissociations has just 
appeared in W. F. Prince's "The Doris Case of Quintuple Per- 
sonality," Journ. Abn. Psychol., 11 (1916), 73-122, 



TYPES OF DISSOCIATION 203 

d. Case M. Hears voices of familiar people saying pleas- 
ant or indifferent things. Annoying at times. 

e. Case N. Dissociated ideas referred to the " Divine 
Mind " ; at first as thoughts, later apparently as heard words. 

/. Case A. Sometimes attributes ideas to other persons 
who are named, sometimes recognizes them as within her- 
self, but not in the main personality. More emphasis on 
pleasant features. 

g. Case D. (Graves' Disease.) Voices of acquaint- 
ances ; as she recovers, lose their tone quality, and come sim- 
ply as thoughts. Illustrates varying degrees of insight. In 
a later attack, the dissociated trends take on a sexual char- 
acter. 

h. Case B. Auditory hallucinations, referred to known 
persons. Funny, indifferent and abusive. 

i. Case C. Thoughts and voices independent of volition ; 
at first not externalized, later externalized ; then referred to 
definite persons. Funny, indifferent and abusive in con- 
tent. 

;'. Case J. Repulsive ideas of a sexual nature, not clearly 
projected. 

k. Case F. Various hallucinatory sights, smells, voices, 
predominantly sexual. Externalized in a mystical way. 

/. Case H. Dissociated ideas, gradually externalized as 
voices. Pleasant and unpleasant, later insulting. At times 
the main personality is displaced by secondary state (the 
automatic) ; the main personality at these times is dimly 
aware of what the automatic is doing. 

Upon the basis of the principles thus illustrated and 
of the realistic details which the cases present, we may 
proceed to a study of the manner and mechanism of dis- 
sociation of trends and ideas, and of the role of dissoci- 
ation in the formation of delusions. 



CHAPTER VI 

MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 

It is natural to ask such patients as we have been de- 
scribing, why they feel certain ideas or actions to be not 
their own; how the patients know this to be the case. 
They reply that the ideas are intruded, not connected 
with the central train of thought; that they are of things 
without personal interest; that they are of things re- 
pulsive; and that the actions are opposed to natural in- 
clinations. For these reasons, they appear to be foreign. 
This is as far as the patients' introspection goes. In ad- 
dition to being dissociated (not recognized as part of 
the main personality), the trends may be projected, ex- 
ternalized (referred to an outside source). This ex- 
ternalization seems to come with the further develop- 
ment of the psychosis, and to disappear as the psychosis 
improves. (Case D.) Repulsive ideas are most uni- 
formly referred to a source outside the main personality. 
They have a special motive for being projected, as the 
main personality is ashamed of them. 1 But the repul- 
siveness is not a necessary motive for projection, since 
we have examples of indifferent and humorous ideas also 
externalized. 

Some kinds of dissociations occur in which physical 
causes are clear. A blow on the head may occasion a 

iln paraphrase of Nietzsche, "Thus I think," says my con- 
sciousness ; " I cannot be thinking thus," says my self-love and will 
not be denied. And at last, consciousness yields. 

204 



MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 205 

loss of memories for events immediately surrounding the 
blow. Diseases of the brain-substance bring about 
losses or disturbances of its activity, according to the 
part of the brain in which the disease is located. Many 
very interesting disturbances of speech, included in the 
term aphasia, are brought about in this way. In the 
minuteness and delicacy with which special functions are 
dissociated, aphasia yields but little to the kinds of disso- 
ciation already considered (pp. 157-161). The extreme 
of simultaneous dissociations - with one side of the body 
normal and the other side apractic or delirious — seems to 
have arisen under organic brain disease. 2 The dissoci- 
ations considered in this and the previous chapter are 
not similarly related to organic brain-disturbances. In- 
deed, it is difficult to relate them to any traceable brain- 
changes at all. 

Yet, there is some similarity in the dissociations trace- 
able to organic sources, and those not so traceable. A 
person may have an organic paralysis or a hysterical 
paralysis, an organic anesthesia or a hysterical anesthesia, 
an organic amnesia or a hysterical amnesia. One ground 
of distinction lies in the readiness with which the lost 
functions may be demonstrated in the unconscious. If a 
blind person avoids obstacles suddenly put before him; 
if a person whose eye muscles are paralyzed suddenly 
looks to one side at an unexpected object ; if a lost mem- 
ory can be recovered in automatic writing, such a disso- 
ciation is functional. Such dissociations are not accom- 
panied by gross changes in the brain. A trend dissoci- 
ated by destruction of brain-tissue cannot so well be re- 
covered in the unconscious. A man whose optic centers 

2 Liepmann, Bleuler, ref. A. Meyer, Psych. Bui I (1904), ?77- 
286. 



206 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

are gone will not avoid, or turn to look at, the unexpected 
object. 

Another ground of distinction between the " organic " 
and " functional " dissociations may be expressed as fol- 
lows. Organic dissociation depends more on the thor- 
oughness of learning, of " impression " or Einpragung 
as the Germans call it. What is least well learned is 
easiest dissociated. Recent memories go before old ones. 
The case of aphasia almost always retains a few common 
words. That is, in organic disorders, what is dissociated 
depends first on the portions of the brain disordered, and 
then on the firmness with which the trends thus affected 
have been grounded in memory. It has long been felt 
that functional dissociations do not follow any such rule, 
and are not to be interpreted by any such principle. What 
trends are dissociated functionally depends more upon 
their special meaning to the individual, and their relation 
to other trends in the personality, that is, upon their func- 
tional value for the personality. 

As was brought out in the second chapter, all our be- 
havior, bodily and mental, is the sum of certain trends 
of conduct. Upon three fundamental trends — hunger, 
race-preservation, self-preservation against enemies — 
nearly every one is agreed. Additional trends are classi- 
fied differently by different investigators. Chapter II 
considered the various ways in which these trends cross 
and interfere with one another. On page 39 we spoke 
of recurring to the mental manifestations of conflicting 
trends. Dissociation is among the most important of 
these. Dissociation through conflict occurs when a trend 
opposed to another trend or system of trends is mani- 
fested independently of them. Trends dissociated from 
the main personality are often and obviously trends with 



MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 207 

which the main personality is in conflict. To give the 
most striking instance, the sexual trends are in strong 
conflict with the main personality in many women, who 
are taught that it is wicked to have thoughts of them. 
Being thus in conflict with the main personality, the 
sexual trends are most readily dissociated from it. Then 
the " voices " tell the woman that she is " bad." 

It is through this incompatibility of the sexual trend 
with other trends of the main personality, that the sexual 
trend is so liable to dissociation from it, while other 
trends are retained in it. The central idea is, that a 
dissociative process strikes upon trends which are or 
represent 3 trends which were incompatible with other 
trends more closely knit with the main personality. They 
were more easily dissociated from the main personality 
by reason of this special incompatibility, or conflict. 

For the present, it is " conceptual license " to suppose 
that all dissociation of trends is a manifestation of con- 
flict in trends. The most to be attempted here is to 
illustrate how conflict manifests itself in some typical 
examples of dissociation. In the state of our knowledge 
there should be no thought of demonstrating, in every 
case, what conflict is behind the dissociation. We have 
described the different forms which the dissociations take. 
The systematic anesthesias, paralyses, amnesias, fugues 
and multiple personalities, are hysterical forms of disso- 
ciation. Schizophrenic (dementia praecox) forms of 
dissociation are the thoughts, voices and other hallucina- 
tions or controlled movements that occur within the 
awareness of the main personality, but are not recog- 
nized as a part of it. In the hysterical dissociations, the 
dissociated trends become part of the unconscious. They 

3 " Dissociative Symbolism," 218. 



208 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

are demonstrable there by automatic writing, etc. By 
analogy, the dissociated trends of dementia praecox are 
sometimes spoken of as " manifestations of the patient's 
unconscious," although, of course, the patient is aware of 
them. We shall deal chiefly with the dementia praecox 
types of dissociation. 

" When that which is inhibited is a sentiment pos- 
sessing an intense emotion, the sentiment tends to be- 
come dissociated from the personal consciousness, and 
free to become by the force of its own emotional dispo- 
sitions a sub(ww)conscious process." 4 In these words 
Prince brings out the main factors in dissociation by 
conflict. Intense conflicts arise about trends which are 
at once strong and blocked; and the trend which is suffi- 
ciently strong and sufficiently blocked is split off, dissoci- 
ated. 

As we saw in Chapter II, the greatest conflicts (we 
speak now only of internal ones), center about the sexual 
trends. Since they are the most conflicting, and perhaps 
also because the situation they seek to realize is more 
definite than in other trends, we find that they are espe- 
cially subject to, and give the best illustrations of, such 
dissociation from the main personality. 

The case-material above cited does not show the real 
frequency with which sexual trends are expressed in dis- 
sociation. To investigate this more fully, a hundred 
consecutive cases of dementia praecox 5 were studied. 
The cases in which sexual trends were directly expressed 
were put into a few natural groupings. In many cases 
no sexual trends were directly expressed. In these, the 
dominant form in which the trends appeared, was noted. 

4 Unc, 488. (Italics author's.) 

5 Manhattan State Hospital material; kindly furnished me by 
Dr. G. H. Kirby. 



MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 209 

Men Women 

Hallucinated or delusional Hallucinated sexual approach 6 

response in opposite sex 5 Delusional desire from male 

Hallucinated calling of " vile sex 4 

names " (not necessarily Dissociated ideas of sexual 

specified) 6 nature (calling "bad wo- 

Other delusional or autoch- man") and the like, not 

thonous ideas of sexual col- necessarily specified, 12 

oring (e.g., performance of Delusions of infidelity of 

cunnilingus, or unspecified husband 4 

" sexual hallucinations " 9 Other ideas of sexual col- 

oring (e.g., to be put in a 
disorderly house, sex or- 
gans worked upon with elec- 
trical machines) 9 
Patients directly expressing 

sexual trends 20 35 

Religious trends 4 4 

Persecutory trends 12 5 

Economic trends 1 1 

Trends, if present, not 

elicited 12 6 

Patients without expression 

of sexual trends 29 16 

In these cases, twice as many men as women give no 
expression to trends, and are inaccessible — a sex differ- 
ence that is not confined to dementia praecox. Another 
such difference may be reflected in that persecutory trends 
are also twice as frequent in the men as in the women. 
Women generally endure more, without feeling perse- 
cuted, than men. The small part played by economic 
trends (ideas of great wealth, etc.) is striking. Manic- 
depressive or general paralytic cases would hardly show 
this. On the other hand, where sexual trends are di- 
rectly expressed, they are not far from twice as frequent 
in the women. This difference is the natural effect of 
dissociation through conflict. It is difficult to say 
whether sexual trends are stronger in women or men. 
But there can be no question that, in proportion to their 
strength, sexual trends are far more blocked in women. 

The sex tabu is far heavier upon them. Their sex con- 
15 



210 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

flicts are far stronger, and this is expressed in the greater 
prominence of the dissociation of these trends in dementia 
praecox. 

The specific role of blocking is well shown by a sex- 
difTerence in the content of these trends. In normal 
life, women have great resistances toward giving them- 
selves to men, while men have comparatively few sub- 
jective resistances toward possessing themselves of 
women. In the material quoted above, there is no case 
of a man's hallucinating the possession of a woman. In- 
deed, only one instance is recalled by the writer, in which 
the man hallucinates normal sexual intercourse. Men 
dream of it, fancy it, often enough, but it is not disso- 
ciated from the main personality. That is, the trend of 
sexual intercourse, not being in great conflict with the 
main personality of men, does not readily become disso- 
ciated from the main personality. 

" The voices," with which women so generally accuse 
themselves of being " bad," do not accuse men of illicit 
relations with women. That idea is not in deep conflict 
with the main personality of men. Where the woman is 
called " bad," the man hears himself instead called by 
an unprintable name which designates the part played by 
Case F in the incident between him and another patient, 
(p. 198. Cf. also Case J.) The dissociation does not 
in men strike the normal heterosexual trends, because the 
main personality of men is little in conflict with them. 
Instead, it brings to light a homosexual trend, toward 
which the normal man feels tremendous resistance. 

In women, on the other hand, it is the normal hetero- 
sexual trend which is dissociated, for it is almost as much 
blocked in women as homosexuality is in the normal man. 
In six of the above cases, women hallucinate the sexual 



MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 211 

approach of men, in either attempted or accomplished in- 
tercourse. There is nothing corresponding to this among 
the men. With them, the trend limits itself more to the 
idea of some woman being secretly in love with the 
patient. 

While the above is said of dementia praecox, it may be 
mentioned that the same thing is observed in alcoholic 
hallucinoses. There too, the hallucinations accuse women 
of being " bad," and men of fellatio, " though here is a 
more general setting of hallucinated opprobrium." 
(August Hoch.) 

We have amply seen how conflicting trends dissoci- 
ated from the main personality manifest themselves to 
it in the form of voices and other hallucinations. The 
main personality perceives these, without accepting them 
as a part of itself. The delusion, on the other hand, is 
a false idea which is accepted by the main personality. 
A pertinent question in regard to delusions suggests 
itself : Why, so long as the main personality cuts loose 
from reality, does it not cut loose in directions which are 
agreeable to it? This is notoriously not the case. The 
majority of delusions are not pleasant but disagreeable 
to the main personality. Clearly, though they are ac- 
cepted as part of the main personality, their content is 
not determined according to the trends of the main per- 
sonality. It is determined by trends which lie outside 
the personal consciousness. 

Sometimes we are fortunate enough to get the same 
trend expressed not only as a delusion in the main per- 
sonality, but in its dissociated form as hallucination. 
This is the case among delusions of marital infidelity, 
such as are mentioned above. The relation of the two 
is instructive. A woman, in the main personality, is 



212 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

jealous of her husband; in her dissociations, she hears 
the voices of men planning to ruin her own virtue; a 
man came to her bed at night and tried to assault her. In 
another woman, the main personality harbors the delusion 
that the husband is unfaithful; in her hallucinations, 
people say that she herself is a prostitute. Another 
woman is told by the Virgin Mary that her husband is 
unfaithful; per contra, people try to make her fall in 
love with some one else. Another has delusions of mar- 
ital infidelity with persecution. She has hallucinations 
of snakes put in her own and her children's mouths. Ob- 
serve that the accepted and repudiated ideas have a com- 
plementary relationship in each case. Each trend is an 
expression of sexual maladjustment, with an attempt to 
solve it. In the trends accepted by the main personality 
(delusions and the friendly voice), the solution is an 
orthodox getting rid of the husband through his unfaith- 
fulness. In this delusion, the trend is thus modified into 
a form that the main personality will accept. In the 
trends repudiated by the main personality (hallucina- 
tions), illicit satisfactions are provided for the patient 
herself. 

From hysteria comes the " nervous pregnancy " 6 in 
which dissociated symptoms of pregnancy appear in 
women desiring a child. Here the conflict is with reality ; 
the trend desiring a child splits off and behaves as though 
the child were there. The " betrothal delirium " is cited 
by Hart in this same connection. This is a dissoci- 
ated state developing in women whose lovers have left 
them. The desires are imagined, or hallucinated, as ful- 
filled. 

An important part played by dissociation in making 

6 Maj. Sympt., 263. 



MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 213 

such delusions possible is well expressed in these words 
of Janet : 

It is precisely because the subjects have forgotten every- 
thing, because they are no longer restrained by any sensa- 
tion, by any thought relative to the reality that surrounds 
them, that they allow the ideas suggested to them to develop 
freely. When they express some idea, their conviction is 
childish. It seems very strong because it rests on astonish- 
ing ignorance. Objections, impossibilities, contradictions, 
do not reach their minds in the least. 

This forgetting, or ignorance, under which the de- 
lusion is possible, is a dissociation of the ideas that would 
correct it. It is through such dissociation that delusional 
trends are not subject to any correction from the world of 
experience. Delusions are mental trends that pursue 
their course independently of real surroundings, in the 
same sense that our breathing pursues its course inde- 
pendently of what we read. Just as, in our first illustra- 
tions, the signing of the letters conflicts with the pursuit 
of the mathematical problem, so the belief that one is 
Julius Caesar conflicts with maintaining the most ele- 
mentary relations with one's actual surroundings. 
Therefore, in normal individuals, the belief that one is 
Julius Caesar does not arise. Only through the suspen- 
sion of that logical conflict (the conflicting elements dis- 
sociated from each other) can the belief in being Julius 
Caesar or what not arise. Delusional trends are kept 
from developing through their " integration " with other 
mental trends that correct them. If normal integration 
breaks down, the trends develop uncorrected. If it is this 
special integration with corrective trends that breaks 
down, there comes a delusion. Our patient then says, 
" I am Julius Caesar." If the dissociation is from the 
main personality, it results in a mind talk, " My thoughts 



214 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

tell me I am Julius Caesar." It may then be integrated 
with the corrective trends (" but I know I am not so "). 
If the dissociation is from the individual altogether, the 
trend comes as a voice: " Christ says I am Julius 
Caesar." (Cf. Case J.) If the distinction between 
image and reality breaks down, hallucinatory experience 
results : " On the Lupercal Mark Antony thrice offered 
me a kingly crown." This shows how the delusion is 
related to other kinds of dissociation. It is according to 
what is dissociated from the trend, whether it becomes a 
delusion, mind-talk, or hallucination. 

To the casual observer, a striking feature of mental 
disease is that patients express false ideas without acting 
upon them in any way. A man who believes himself 
king of the world still accepts the feeding-chair for a 
throne, and the floor-polisher for a scepter. Such patients 
are said not to react to their delusions, because they do 
not behave in ways consistent with them. (" Faith with- 
out works.") The man who has the wealth of the 
world begs for a trifle. 7 Such delusions are trends quite 
isolated from the rest of the personality. They are dis- 
sociated not only from the rationally corrective trends, 
but from all other trends determining the patient's con- 
duct. They are integrated only with the " warmth and 
intimacy " which makes them still part of the personal 
consciousness. The patient presents the simple, unelabor- 
ated belief : / am king of the world. That is all. It is 
dissociated from everything else in the individuality. 8 

7 Hart, " Psychology of Insanity," 55-57. 

8 A person may have an experience, realize that the experience has 
happened to some one, but not that it has happened to himself. Cf. 
James, " Principles," I, footnote, 273-274. Also " David Copper- 
field," closing pages of Ch. 24. This would represent a dissociation 
of the " warmth and intimacy," at least from the immediate situation, 
and probably from much else in the personality. 



MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 215 

In both normal and pathological thinking, ideas which 
are contradictory usually correct or exclude one another. 
It is as impossible for a thing to " both be and not be " 
as it is for James's philosopher and lady-killer to " keep 
house in the same tenement of clay." If correct (Keller's 
verifiable) ideas are retained the result is what we have 
called logical or realistic thinking. A delusion results, as 
we have seen, when corrective ideas are dissociated. 
That is a form of " autistic " mental activity. But au- 
tistic thinking often shows a dissociation of such conflict- 
ing ideas from one another only. In such a case the con- 
flicting ideas persist side by side in the main personality, 
each unmodified by its logical inconsistency with the 
other. Frazer tells of astronomers who can predict 
eclipses, and who yet believe that eclipses are caused by 
a dragon swallowing the sun. " Unless," he goes on, 
" we allow for this innate capacity of the human mind 
to entertain contradictory beliefs at the same time, we 
shall in vain attempt to understand the history of thought 
in general, and of religion in particular." The knowl- 
edge that predicts eclipses is dissociated from the belief 
in the dragon, so that neither influences the other. Re- 
ligion can establish close contact of such conflicting ideas, 
without any logical interaction : 

He that foresees and f oredecrees 
In wisdom ordered has 
That man's free-will, electing ill, 
Shall bring His will to pass. 9 

Even though there is some notion of their conflict, 
each idea may be held so strongly that neither can be 
given up. The doctrine of the Virgin Birth furnishes a 
prominent example : " Joseph and Mary were married, 

9 "The Day of Doom" (1661), 



216 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

but the marriage was never consummated. Yet it was 
a true marriage and Mary became a mother, but Joseph 
was not the father. Mary was a Virgin nevertheless." 10 
The Athanasian Creed brings the following : 

. . . Neither confounding the Persons : nor dividing the 
Substance. For there is one Person of the Father, another 
of the Son, and another of the Holy Ghost. ... So the 
Father is God, the Son is God : and the Holy Ghost is God. 
And yet there are not three Gods: but one God. . . . The 
Father is made of none : neither created, nor begotten. The 
Son is of the Father alone: not made, nor created, but 
begotten. The Holy Ghost is of the Father and of the Son : 
neither made, nor created, nor begotten, but proceeding 
. . . our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is God and 
Man ; God, of the Substance of the Father, begotten before 
the worlds : and Man, of the Substance of his Mother, born 
in this world ; . . . 

Viewed genetically, the lines from the " Day of 
Doom " represent a primary stage of complete dissoci- 
ation of the conflicting ideas. In the instances of the 
Trinity and the Virgin Birth, the difficulty is appreciated. 
Logical integration has commenced. The ideas conflict- 
ing with the prevalent notions had been dissociated, but 
are now beginning to assert themselves. The two con- 
flicting trends of thought are maintained through special 
rationalizing. 

The following dementia praecox Case R remarks of 
two conflicting statements : 

Both of those things are true and both are lies, you can 
put them both down. (Can a thing be both a truth and a 
lie?) Yes . . . (On another topic.) Loads of people who 
are interested in me and loved me ... I am interested in all 
and love all — (then, with a sneer) I don't love all — by 
any means. 

10 Sumner, " Folkways," 401-402. 



MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 217 

Before leaving the topic of the dissociated existence 
of conflicting trends, attention should be called to some 
cases in which a dissociated trend is very directly opposed 
by the counter-trends. A patient hears voices telling her 
to get married ; she answers them that she does not wish 
to. This interaction is between trends of the main per- 
sonality and a trend of the " unconscious." Different 
trends may also interfere with one another, without their 
relations to the main personality being clearly different. 
Prince gives an amusing example of this. 11 A patient's 
right hand is engaged in automatic writing. The left 
hand observes what the right hand is doing, and objects 
to it ; seizes the pencil and hurls it across the room — all 
without the main personality's being any the wiser. 

The mental processes in the Lusitania-cap dream (p. 
120) show the same thing. The dreamer greatly de- 
sires his cap, that he may leave the sinking vessel. If 
the trend desiring the cap were unopposed, the cap should 
fly miraculously to his head; appear lying on the deck 
at his feet; the steward should hurry up with it; or at 
least there should be no trouble in locating it. But 
though the cap is ardently desired, observe that it is 
frantically withheld. Rather than risk the chance of 
finding that cap, the dreamer forgets the way to his state- 
room. Of course all this ado is additional testimony that 
the cap is no conventional piece of headgear. The writer 
has noted the same type of conflict more plainly in dreams 
in which he would make appointments to meet people 
toward whom he had some opposition, and would then 
lose his way in reaching the place of appointment. 

A girl quoted by Pfister learned from playmates, who 
made sport of her ignorance, certain false and masochistic 

11 Unc, 480. 



218 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

fancies concerning sexual matters. She developed a 
stereotyped nightmare, in which she walked along a 
straight road between two swamps. Many hands were 
stretched out from these, to draw her down, but ap- 
parently never did so. Pfister cites this as representing 
the conflict bet wen trends of yielding to the fancies, and 
trends of escaping from them. 

These two cases bring up another aspect of dissociation, 
with whose brief discussion we must close this chapter. 
The symbolizing tendency of dreams has here distorted 
the conflicting trends from their original form. 12 The 
fancies of the mire of unclean thoughts become hands 
stretching out from a literal swamp. Not only does the 
trend for rinding the cap conflict with a countertrend for 
losing it, but it is not really a cap which is being lost. 
The dissociation combines with a symbolizing of the 
trends which are dissociated. We met phenomena of 
this sort in Chapter IV, under the head of affective sym- 
bolism. There, we emphasized that the affective symbol 
derived its affect from an original experience the mem- 
ory of which might be lost to awareness. Now, we em- 
phasize that an original experience, though lost to aware- 
ness, may still be represented in consciousness by some 
trend in symbolic association with it. Symbols whose 
originals are thus dissociated from awareness may be 
termed dissociative symbols. A toy dog is to the old 
maid who cherishes it the affective symbol of a human 
love-object. It becomes also a dissociative symbol, if 
her main personality fails to realize, or repudiates, its 
connection with the original trend. Dissociative symbols 

12 This is neatly expressed by Case F in speaking of the spirits 
" showing themselves through voices, forms and various practices ; 
they are very clever about some of their practices and cover them up." 
(p. 197.) 



MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 219 

are the most difficult and uncertain of all symbols to 
demonstrate. " While in a state of conservation (in the 
unconscious) they (the original trends) are capable of 
undergoing elaborate fabrication (symbolic distortion) 
and afterward appearing so thoroughly transformed in 
consciousness as to be superficially unrecognizable." 
". . . Hallucinations and bizarre notions and delu- 
sions . . . are often due to the resurrecting and fabri- 
cating effect of unconscious complexes formed by the 
earlier experiences of the patient's life." 13 Prince and 
Tait proved the dissociated original experiences in their 
" bell-tower " and "brown" cases (pp. I28ff.), respec- 
tively, by direct appeal to the unconscious in which 
the dissociated originals of the affective symbols were 
buried. 

The symbolisms of dreams are regularly of the disso- 
ciative type. That is, we are seldom immediately aware 
of them; and when they can be established, it must be 
through some special searching for the originals in the 
unconscious. The examples quoted to illustrate dream 
symbolism in Chapter III (pp. 99ff.), represent a "nas- 
cent state " of dissociative symbolism. The original 
is not so far dissociated from awareness that the con- 
nection between it and its dream-symbol is lost to aware- 
ness. Prince gives a good example of such a nascent dis- 
sociation, in a dream also symbolizing a conflict: 
(Quoted from Unc, 98.) 

The subject dreamed that she was standing where two 
roads separated. One was broad and beautiful, and many 
people she knew were going that way. The other road was 
the rocky path, quite dark, and no one was going that way, 
but she had to go. And she said, " Oh, why must I go this 
way? Will no one go with me? " And a voice replied, " I 

13 Unc, 100, 263. (Parentheses author's.) 



220 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

will go with you." She looked around, and there were some 
tall black figures ; they all had names across their foreheads 
in bright letters, and the one who spoke was Disappoint- 
ment ; and all the others said, " We will go with you," and 
they were Sorrow, Loss, Pain, Fear, and Loneliness, and 
she fell down on her face in anguish. 

There were actual conflicts and sorrows in the patient's 
personality, with which the dream-ideas stand in near 
association. The nascent character comes out in that 
the figures representing Disappointment, etc., are not un- 
recognizably disguised, but are appropriately dark, and 
bear their names upon them. 

In another instance, a forgotten idea, not an unpleas- 
ant one, reappears, verifiably in awareness, but in a dis- 
torted form. 14 The patient had lost a check, searching 
for it in vain for five days. Early one morning she had a 
vision of Christ, and at that moment experienced a feel- 
ing that she would find the check. The vision moved 
toward her bureau. Automatically (without " any con- 
scious idea that the check was there "), she went to the 
bureau and found the check. The unconscious memory 
of the location of the check manifests itself to aware- 
ness in a figure of Christ which vaguely indicates the 
place. 

A girl reported by Pfister 15 had as a child held the be- 
lief that babies are born through the mouth. At the age 
of about sixteen she begins to vomit regularly at her men- 
strual periods. The cessation of this vomiting, when its 
analogy with the former belief is brought to the girl's 
awareness, is evidence of unconscious connection between 
the two, the vomiting being a dissociative symbol of the 
sexual trend. 



14 Unc, 189-190. 15 D. psa. Met., 128. 






MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 821 

A painful delusional trend is often to be explained by 
some connection with another dissociated trend. August 
Hoch has called attention to a type of psychosis among 
women in the content of which the father plays a very 
prominent role. The essential trend of the psychosis is 
a return to the father. Then a patient's idea of being 
dead may arise from simple association with the fact 
that the father is dead. Jung mentions a case in which 
the father was an especially wicked man ; the patient de- 
sired to die that she might go to hell. Such a trend 
does not genuinely represent a belief in deserving hell, 
much less a desire to go there. It is but the symbolic 
expression of a dissociated trend toward the father. 

Another frequent topic of dissociative symbolism is 
an identification of sexual with electrical processes. As- 
sociations between the two which might give rise to such 
symbolism are not difficult to imagine. Both are spe- 
cially associated with personal influence and attraction 
(magnetism), also between persons separated at a dis- 
tance. Weak electric shocks again have some sensory 
likeness to the thrill of mild sexual stimulations. The 
analogy is not confined to incidental metaphor or mental 
disease. Case F complained of a loose flow of personal 
magnetism. It would come in waves ; run up and down 
the spine for two or three seconds, a pleasant sensation. 
Others of F's fancies presented this symbolism in a more 
dissociated form: 

" The idea came to me that I was giving her electric baths ; 
shooting these shafts of light inward into her body/' It is 
a shaft of magnetic power, which he can put into her body 
at any desired point. He roughly sketches it on a piece of 
paper. It can be made very large or very small, so that its 
entry is almost like the prick of a needle. " Probably she 
at first did not have this power, but I kept putting these 



222 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

shafts into her until her power was so strengthened that she 
could transmit her form." Her " transmitted " form serves 
him for masturbation fancies. Associated with this was the 
idea of a luminous pillar extending above his head like the 
beam of a searchlight. Being advised to give up the fancies 
of this woman, he said it was his relationship with her that 
kept it up straight ; if he ceased his communication with her 
it might weaken, bend over to one side, and thus overbalance 
him. 

Another dementia praecox case presents a special fancy 
for a certain girl. Although he has had pretty free sex- 
ual intercourse otherwise, he has not had intercourse with 
this girl, only caressed her. Nor does he imagine inter- 
course, or some less conclusive normal relationship with 
her, in his psychosis. Instead, she puts a wireless ap- 
paratus upon him; giving him thoughts, and reading his 
own. Thus the trend toward the girl does not take the 
form of a normal possession, but is expressed, as with 
Case F above, in electrical communications. 

The concept of dissociative symbolism is, that a mani- 
fest symptom of some kind may be symbolic of another 
trend w 7 hich is dissociated from awareness. Symbols 
are formed through any and all kinds of association be- 
tween symbol and thing symbolized. As was said in 
other words in Chapter III (p. 95), we must suppose 
that symbols are formed through the same kinds of as- 
sociation, whether or not we are aware of the whole 
symbolic process. As these connections may be quite 
far-fetched in the symbols immediately recognized, we 
need not expect them to be otherwise in the dissociative 
symbols not so recognized. With this in mind, the con- 
cept of dissociative symbolism is the readiest interpreta- 
tion of a large group of hysterical phenomena. As 
Prince remarks : 



MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 223 

. . . When the disaggregation of personality is brought 
about by the force of a conflicting emotion, the resulting 
hysterical state . . . may be robbed of certain sensory or 
motor functions, although these functions are not, as far as 
we can see, logically related to the emotion or the ideas 
coupled with it. Thus a person receives an emotional shock 
and develops a right sided anesthesia or paralysis — a very 
common phenomenon . . . again, when amnesia results, it 
may cover a past epoch — retrograde amnesia — without 
obvious reason for the chronological line of cleavage. 
[XJnc, 505, 506.) (Italics author's.) 

The anesthesias, paralyses and amnesias are to be re- 
garded as representatives of other trends lying in the un- 
conscious. These manifest symptoms are modes of ex- 
pression of the trends buried from awareness. What the 
buried trend behind such a symptom is, or how the par- 
ticular anesthesia, paralysis, amnesia or other hysterical 
symptom comes to be associated with the buried trend so 
as to represent it in awareness — can be determined, if at 
all, only by exploration of the unconscious. 

The chief concepts to be gained from our study of dis- 
sociation are two : 

First, the compound structure of mind, and the rather 
unstable nature of that compound. Study of the brain 
long since led to the abandonment of the idea that the 
brain was a homogeneous organ. Certain parts of the 
brain are devoted to special functions. The disease that 
attacks certain parts of the brain affects certain functions, 
leaving others relatively intact. Neither is the mind 
homogeneous. It is made up of trends, just as a brain is 
composed of nerve tracts, or a switchboard of wires. 
The " main personality " is a name given to a dominant 
combination of these trends, which are part of conscious- 
ness. But new trends are continually being added to this 
combination, and others are dropping out from it. It 



224 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

appears that any mental trend or combination of trends 
may be dissociated from any other trend or combination 
of trends. Every trend in the mind has potential au- 
tonomy of other trends. We have been describing some 
ways in which such autonomy, or independence, is mani- 
fested. It has been seen that they analyze and recombine 
in an infinity of ways. Mental stability means the sta- 
bility with which the compounds, or systems, of mental 
trends are preserved. 

Second, the import of the unconscious. The material 
surveyed throws a side-light upon these relations. Our 
concern has been with the description of the trends which 
are split off from the main personality, and are demon- 
strable in the unconscious. The amount of these is so 
great as to indicate that, as any trend may split off from 
the personal consciousness, so may any trend be recovered 
to it which has ever been in it, or even brought to the 
field of awareness without its having ever been there, 16 if 
only the experience left its proper impress upon the or- 
ganism. 

The material presented illustrates the facts of disso- 
ciation, and the ways in which dissociation is manifested. 
An unconscious, made up of mental processes dissociated 
from the main personality, plays the leading role in the 
mental symptoms of hysteria and dementia praecox condi- 
tions; and, there is reason to think, also in the manic- 
depressive psychosis. From the first two of these sources 
has come our most definite knowledge about the uncon- 
scious. This knowledge has been, therefore, chiefly as- 
sociated with mental pathology. It is characteristic of 
these mental diseases to afford direct evidence of the un- 
conscious in the form of automatic writing, hallucina- 

i6 Unc, 52ff. 



MECHANISMS IN DISSOCIATED IDEAS 225 

tions, somnambulisms and the like. They are like a 
storm which tosses the ship so as to give fitful glimpses 
of much that is below the normal water line of conscious- 
ness. In the healthy mind, the boundaries between the 
conscious and the unconscious are more firmly held; it 
is like a ship riding a calm sea, and the hull below the 
water line is invisible. But that portion is just as es- 
sential in one ship as in the other. It does not follow that 
because the unconscious is less manifest, it is less signi- 
ficant in normal life. 

In a pn ious chapter was mentioned the inadequacy 
of the conscious to give satisfactory explanations of 
men's voluntary actions, although such actions have con- 
scious antecedents. " And the more sincerely one seeks 
to trace the actual course of psychogenesis," concludes 
James, ". . . the more clearly one perceives ' the slowly 
gathering twilight close in utter night.' " Since these 
words were written, it has been recognized that this 
darkness covers no hopeless waste of inborn " behavior- 
patterns. ,, The modern concept of the unconscious pos- 
tulates that memories or traces of the individual's ex- 
perience, 17 of which the person is unaware, play a de- 
termining role in both his actions and thought. James 
made this quite clear in reference to habitual processes. 
One's skill in tennis or chess does not depend on being 
conscious of all one's experience in them, so long as one 
has had the experience. Acquired and unconscious men- 
tal processes are clearly effective in habitual action. But 
such effectiveness is probably far wider than this, and ex- 
tends to the most distinctive and momentous passages of 
life. Men's failures to act rationally, perhaps most con- 
spicuous in the love-life, are acts in accordance with 

17 Cf. Prince's neurograms; von Bechterew's Spuren. 
16 



226 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

reasons that are unconscious. The concept of the un- 
conscious considers these determined not only by innate 
perversities, but also by experiences buried out of aware- 
ness. 

The corollary is the widest possible application of the 
law of habit. Many games, though forgotten, make the 
skillful chess player. But, experience is not thus de- 
pendent upon repetition, to be effective in the unconscious. 
This point was made in Chapter IV (p. 133). It is not 
only good and bad habits that acquire an unconscious hold 
on men for good and ill, but this is true of good and 
bad mental trends of all kinds. Each mental process, 
habitual or incidental, leaves its mark upon the personal- 
ity, sometimes conscious, mostly unconscious. The 
" memory of a good action " is precious long after the 
deed is forgotten. Man's special faiths, interests, hob- 
bies, friendships, enmities, ambitions and infatuations are 
fashioned, not from the fraction of experience he can re- 
member, nor yet from innate features of being he can- 
not control; but from a body of unconscious experience 
vaster than knowledge, which imparts to the objects of 
consciousness, by affective transference, their human val- 
ues. This mighty and invisible potency of forgotten 
experience gives added import to all education, and sanc- 
tion to each daily task. 



CHAPTER VII 

EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 

Psychology partakes of both social and natural sci- 
ence in its subject matter, and in its relation to experi- 
ment. " The best the social scientist can do," writes Kel- 
ler, 1 " is the worst the natural scientist has to do — to 
wait on nature and history to perform quasi experiments 
for him." Crile sets more value on nature's quasi experi- 
ments in the field of mental function. " It is idle to 
consider any experimental researches into the cause of 
phenomena that have been developed by natural selection 
through millions of years. Nature herself has made the 
experiments on a world-wide scale and the data are before 
us for interpretation." 2 It is nature's experiments that 
have chiefly concerned this book. But nature's experi- 
ments in psychology, as in chemistry and physics, are not 
always made so that men can analyze them for purposes 
of application. Laboratory chemistry and physics have 
been of vital help in man's use of natural forces. Psy- 
chological experiments, also, analyze mental phenomena 
as nature does not, and make them objective as unaided 
reflection cannot. Against the difficulties of human ex- 
perimentation, psychology sets the human importance of 
its problems and the precision of its results. These give 
to experimentation its place in the science of mind. 

*" Societal Evolution" (1915), 128. 
2 "Origin and Nature of the Emotions" (1915), 12. 

227 



228 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Experimental psychology attempts the measurement 
and comparison of the mental qualities of individuals. 
Among the first mental differences thus measured was the 
precision of certain time-observations in astronomy. 
This was called the " personal equation," as though it 
were the chief or only measurable individual difference; 
which, indeed, so far as astronomy was concerned, was 
the case. The science of mental measurements has 
grown with the devising of the many other ways in which 
attributes can be measured and compared. 

Such differences appear in all measurements of individ- 
ual attributes. But some attributes are much more im- 
portant, or have a much wider importance for life, than 
others. In ordinary life it is more important for a man 
to have good sight than a good sense of smell. For a 
tea taster, a hyperacute sense of smell would be more 
important than a fine ear for music. Most people, how- 
ever, would prefer the latter. It is not so important to 
remember a mass of facts, as to be able to reason clearly 
about what one knows. The several measurements of 
psychological functions are of interest according to the 
value for human adaptations of the qualities measured. 

For instance, we can make very precise measurements 
of a person's hearing, or sense of touch. A defect in the 
former has to be pretty marked before it is a serious 
handicap in life; much more marked than exact experi- 
ments will readily determine. In early years such defects 
may not be rightly understood. School children may be 
dull because they do not hear or see well. Simple experi- 
ments are useful in discovering and helping such cases. 
Some specialized occupations demand (as is true of the 
tea taster) an acuteness of sense that is not so necessary 
for ordinary life. The locomotive engineer must not be 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 229 

color-blind; proper tests must certify as to this. Such 
sensory aptitudes are generally easy to measure ; but it is 
only great deficiency in them that is of wide importance 
for adaptation to life. Experiment plays a minor part 
here, because the defect appears without refined observa- 
tions. In the great majority, success depends on other 
things than the bare possession of good eyes and ears. 

One may measure the muscular strength of a maximum 
effort, and the quickness of movement. Civilization has 
diminished the importance of these for adaptation to life. 
Generally, if these are so abnormal as to be a factor in a 
person's success or failure, they are evident without ex- 
perimental methods. Only in certain cases, where we 
wish to set definite standards of muscular strength, as in 
candidacy for a football team, do we resort to experi- 
mental measures. Much exact work has been done in 
studying the precision and economy of movements, be- 
cause such economy is important for industrial operatives. 
Experiment helps to determine the most efficient motions 
for the performance of a given task. 3 But adaptation to 
life as a whole lies not in keenness of sense, or strength 
and speed of movement. The race and battle are to those 
who make the best use of their speed and strength. 
Adaptation lies in the right coordination of sense and 
movement. The locomotive engineer's ability to tell red 
from green, and the strength to move the lever, mean 
nothing unless he can also move the lever promptly in the 
right direction. Let the engineer's right response to his 
signal be the example of right response to life in general. 
What experiments can we apply, to show what adapta- 
tions to life a person can make, and how well he can make 
them? 

3 Cf. World's Work (July, 1916), 321-336. 



230 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

All adaptations are mental or motor reactions. We 
measure what happens in a person under a given experi- 
mental situation. We examine the meaning of the meas- 
ures for the person's adaptation to life, and to what sort 
of life. A fairly detailed account of important types of 
experimental methods is more advisable for this chapter, 
than a superficial glance over the whole field. In the 
foreground of usefulness are series of experiments de- 
signed to trace the development of intelligence. They 
measure a person's general fund of information, and how 
well he can accomplish certain standard tasks. Their 
great use lies in promptly distinguishing children whose 
abnormally low intelligence makes them a drag on their 
schoolfellows; also in the early recognition of children 
whose exceptional brightness makes them worthy of spe- 
cial educational advantages. But intelligence is neither 
the sole factor in a person's adjustments, nor often the 
most important one. Experimental methods are likewise 
called upon for information about a person's emotional or 
instinctive life, and how this will combine with intelli- 
gence to affect his behavior as a whole. Special situa- 
tions are created in the laboratory; and the manner in 
which the subject meets them is compared with the qual- 
ity of his adjustments to the outer world. They are con- 
ceived as tests of performance as well as of intelligence. 
Light has also been sought on these points from the 
method called measurement by relative position; through 
direct studies of the quality of the thought processes (as- 
sociation) ; and from systematic methods of observing 
and interpreting general behavior. All these are ap- 
proaches from different angles to the common goal of 
connecting something that can be objectively measured, 
like a laboratory performance, with the person's abilities 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 231 

and tendencies in actual life. It is found that the ap- 
proach is least difficult when the processes to be measured 
are essentially those of intellectual or motor skill. Its 
obscurity increases the more these processes are involved 
with emotional or instinctive factors. This latter phase 
is considered in the present chapter by the discussion of 
" relative position " and " association " methods. Fac- 
tors from the unconscious enter to complicate the mean- 
ing of these experiments, in ways partly set forth in pre- 
vious chapters, and partly to be further indicated. 

We may begin with measurements of intelligence. 
There are some mental adaptations which a person must 
make to any kind of normal life. If he cannot make 
these, he is deficient. These defects are looked upon as 
defects of intelligence. The past decade has witnessed 
most fruitful efforts toward devising experiments which 
will show whether and how well such adaptations may 
be made. The individual's adaptability, his capacity for 
meeting life, increases as he grows to mature age. An 
infant is supposed to be helpless, and a man to take care 
of himself. At any given age, there is a certain capac- 
ity for adaptation which is normal for that age. The 
genius of Binet developed some simple graded tests which 
a child should pass, at each age; what he should be able 
to do at five years, what tests he should pass at six years, 
and so on up to twelve years and more. Then, if a per- 
son twelve years old could do no more than a normal 
person seven years old performs, he is clearly deficient, 
and by a measured amount. On the other hand, if a 
person nine years old can pass tests that one is not ex- 
pected to pass before eleven years, that person is clearly 
superior in the qualities measured by the tests. 

A convincing testimony to the value of Binet's concep- 



232 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

tion is the extent to which the original tests have been 
revised and emended by many hands. Kuhlmann pre- 
sents a revision containing tests for mentalities of one- 
fourth, one-half, one and two years. 4 The latest and 
most elaborate presentation of them is that undertaken 
at Stanford University under the guidance of Terman. 5 
It is graded by years from three to sixteen years, there 
being six tests for each year up to ten years, with alter- 
nates. Sixteen years is regarded as " average adult " 
ability. An additional series for " superior " adult abil- 
ity is also provided. 

Examinations of this type have indicated that adults 
who fail to pass tests that are normal for twelve years 
are not able to maintain themselves independently in the 
world. Exceptions to this have been pointed out; but 
it remains a practical definition of arrested development 
to say that in these functions one does only so well as a 
normal five, seven or ten year old. This is the most 
readily intelligible means of expressing the measure of 
defect. 

Apart from the actual tests involved, an objection to 
this scaling of tests by years is its cumbrousness. Ex- 
pertness is required in making a large number of tests. 
The examiner must find the approximate level of the sub- 
ject, and make tests for the years about this level. The 
scoring is complicated by the fact that a subject may pass 
tests above his age and fail in tests below it. It seemed 
that what the " year-scale " conception gained in super- 
ficial clearness it lost in convenience and accuracy of in- 
terpretation. 

4 Journal of Psycho- Asthenics, Monog. Suppl. I (1912), 41. 

5 "The Measurement of Intelligence," etc. (1916), 362. An ex- 
tensive and classified bibliography of year-scale work is included. 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 

To meet these difficulties, Yerkes and his pupils essen- 
tially altered the treatment of the tests. 6 They use a 
selected series of tests, nearly all of which are represented 
in the year-scales — twenty in all. They vary much in 
difficulty. A subject, regardless of age, receives a cer- 
tain number of " points," according to the kind of test 
he passes. This series is called a " point-scale " instead 
of a " year-scale " ; if the subject passes all the tests per- 
fectly, he makes a score of ioo points. A normal adult 
should score not below 75 points. The nature of the 
tests in this " adolescent " scale is briefly as follows : 

1. Chooses prettier of pictures. 2. Sees picture lacks, 
e.g., feet, hair, etc. 3. Compares lines and weights. 4. 
Memory span for digits. 5. Counts backward. 6. Repeats 
sentences of different lengths, from memory. 7. Describes 
pictures. 8. Arranges five weights in order. 9. Compares, 
e.g., an apple and a cucumber. 10. Defines, e.g., fork, 
table, cat. II. Resists suggestions. 12. Copies simple de- 
signs. 13. Gives words for three minutes. 14. Arranges 
three words in sentence. 15. Tells what to do if, e.g., it 
begins to rain. 16. Draws designs from memory. 17. Sees 
absurdity in given sentences. 18. Puts given words to- 
gether to make sentences. 19. Defines, e.g., health, gener- 
osity, forgiveness. 20. Completes analogies like : Up is to 
down as head is to . . . 

The number of points which children of different years 
made ran as follows in a miscellaneous group 7 of sub- 
jects : 

At age 4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-13-14-15- Adult 

Points 14-22-29-34-39-52-59-64-74-74-78-77- 91 ; 751 persons in all 

6 Yerkes, Bridges, Hardwick, " A Point Scale for Measuring 
Mental Ability" (1915), 168, esp. 31-48. Cf. also Haines, "Point- 
Scale Ratings of Delinquent Boys, Girls," Psychol. Rev., 22 (1915), 
104-109. " Diagnostic Values of some Performance Tests," Ibid., 
209-305. " Relative Values of Point- Scale and Year-Scale Measure- 
ments of one Thousand Minor Delinquents," Journ. Exp. Psychol. 1 
(1916), 51-82. "Mental Measurements of the Blind," Psychol. 
Monog., 89 (1916), 86. 

7 Yerkes, Bridges, Hardwick, op. cit., 64-65. 



234 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Recently, Yerkes has been experimenting with a scale 
for rating corresponding abilities in normal adults. 
Twenty tests are taken, more difficult than those for the 
adolescent scale, and graded under more rigid conditions. 
There is still much division of opinion on the relative 
merits of year and point scales. In general, the relative 
merit of the point-scale concept increases as the abilities 
of the persons tested become higher. 

An essential development in these systems of testing 
is the " intelligence quotient." 8 A child testing one year 
behind his age at five years is more backward than a child 
who tests one year behind his age at ten years. It would 
not be fair to say that each is one year backward. The 
" Intelligence Quotient " (or IQ) aims to reduce these 
values to a common denominator; it may be applied to 
both year and point scales. By the Yerkes scale, a per- 
son of 4.7 years who scored but 11 points (the norm for 
this age is 21) would thus show an IQ 9 of x %i or .52, 
which expresses the relation between what the subject has 
done and what the normal subject should do. Kuhlmann 
considers that if one's " Binet age " divided by chrono- 
logical age gives a quotient of .75 or less, this fact always 
indicates feeblemindedness. 101 In Terman's work this 
figure is placed nearer .70. 11 It is supposed that the 
direct influence of age in improving performance ceases 
at about sixteen years (Terman) ; to compute the IQ, the 
scores (" mental age" or number of points) for older 
persons are divided by the accomplishment appropriate to 
this age. 

8 Cf. Doll, Note on the " Intelligence Quotient," Training School 
Bulletin (Jan. 1916). 

9 The term " coefficient of mental ability " (C. M. A.), has also been 
used in point-scale work. 

10 Journal of P sycho- Asthenics , 19 (1915), 235. 

11 "The Measurement of Intelligence" (1916), 81. 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 235 

Year-scales have the advantage over point-scales, that 
they are more adaptable to new tests. A year-scale can 
be determined for any test in which it exists by simply 
submitting it to a number of normal individuals at each 
age. Pintner has done this effectively for the Knox Cube 
Test ; 12 and it is being done for other valuable tests not 
included in the standardized series. This is, in fact, what 
standardization now means when applied to psychological 
tests. 

Both " year " and " point " scales consist of a number 
of different tests. The summary given of the Yerkes 
adolescent scale indicates their general character. Prac- 
tical considerations make them simple, with few demands 
on apparatus. While they are called measures of intelli- 
gence, no careful protagonist of the methods claims that 
they measure the whole, or a sufficient part, of the mental 
qualities involved in adaptation to life. It may be said 
with assurance that they measure a necessary part, since 
people who do not measure up to the ability of twelve 
years, or 75 points, or whose " IQ " is below .70, are 
likely to have difficulties in meeting the usual conditions 
of independent life. There is, however, all too positive 
testimony that good performance in these tests carries no 
guaranty of adjustment to life. Thus, excellent records 
have been obtained with long-standing dementia praecox 
cases. The scales for the functions measured in the in- 
telligence scales are good attests of mental defect, or su- 
periority in particular functions, but uncertain ones for 
mental normality. 

Healy and his co-workers have found considerable dif- 
ficulty with the earlier Binet tests; and it must be ac- 
knowledged that their objections apply in some degree 

12 Psychol. Rev. 22 (1915), 377-401. 



236 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

to " intelligence " measures as a whole. 13 Healy himself 
emphasizes the more general disadvantage, also brought 
out in the earlier paper of Schmitt, of their " calling so 
greatly for language responses.' , This is unfortunate 
in two ways, first as ill-suited to the polyglot American 
population, and second because it unduly favors the " ver- 
balist " type of defective (the verbomane of Ossip- 
Lourie), whose language powers are out of proportion 
to the rest of his mental constitution. Of such a case 
Healy remarks : 

" Here is a girl with language ability immensely above her 
standard of performance in other ways. Her record on 
the Binet tests is not an indication of the extent of her mental 
defectiveness, because they call for an undue amount of 
language performance. Much more consonant with her 
social failure are our findings on other tests." But the Binet 
record in this case was also far from normal. 

Healy therefore has worked along lines independent 
of the Binet conception, not toward intelligence tests, but 
toward what he calls performance tests, and tests of 
" performance with other material than language." The 
experimental responses are not made in language, as they 
would be in a " word-association " test or a " definition " 
test. They consist in such adaptations as fitting differ- 
ently shaped pieces of wood in place to fill a frame. 
(Construction tests.) Irregularly shaped pieces were cut 
out of a picture mounted on wood, and these must be 
correctly replaced. A " puzzle box " is opened by some 
simple mechanical adjustments. But his most distinctive 
contribution is the pictorial completion test. A high 
value has long been assigned among mental measurements 

13 Those discussed by Schmitt, are important, if mostly outside the 
scope of this volume. "Pedagogical Seminary," 19 (1912), 186-200. 
Psychol. Monog., 83 (1915), esp. pp. 51-67. 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES JOT 

to the so-called Kombinationsmethode (or completion 
test) of Ebbinghaus, in the best known form of which 
certain letters or words are left out of a printed text, and 
the subject supplies them as rapidly as possible. But its 
dependence on language ability is extreme. Healy's prob- 
lem was to represent its valuable features outside the lan- 
guage field. He accomplished this by obtaining a pic- 
ture 14 of a kind to attract the juveniles with whom he 
has mostly to deal, and cutting ten square pieces out of 
different parts of it. All pieces are the same size. The 
subject is then supplied with fifty pieces of this form, ten 
of which fit logically into the places cut out, while the 
others are more or less irrelevant. For example, there 
would be a bat or a tennis racket which might fit into a 
baseball game. The subject must put into each place the 
piece which logically fits there. The possible errors are 
not all of the same degree; it would not be so bad an error 
to put the tennis racket in place of the bat as to put a book 
there. Healy says of it: 15 

At ii years this test should be readily accomplished with 
not more than two final errors, and certainly not more than 
one illogical error. Most of our group of normal offenders 
by ii years do better than this, and even some at 10 years 
do as well. With age there seems to be no marked average 
increase of ability. The median or average performance 
for all in the group of those ordinary in ability above 10 years 
is one final error and no illogical error. 

Besides lessening the language difficulty, performance 
tests of Healy's type are calculated to appeal more to the 
natural interests of the subject. " The will to cooperate 

14 Reproduced in "The Individual Delinquent" (1915), facing p. 96. 
Cf. also "A Pictorial Completion Test," Psychol, Rev. 21 (1914), 
189-203. 

15 "The Individual Delinquent," in. 



238 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

and put forth the best effort is not going to be brought 
out in offenders by asking them to memorize nonsense 
syllables and perform other feats of rote memory." He 
mentions a case in which " the stimulation of a good 
meal " raised the Binet findings over two years. Frances 
Porter brings out these points in an analysis of several 
cases, in which the performance tests give better informa- 
tion than those of the scales, except among very young 
children. 16 The subject's attitude toward the "perform- 
ance " experiments is thought to be more representative 
of his attitude toward real life, and his reactions are ac- 
cordingly more representative of his actions in the world 
at large. On the other hand, Healy's tests are not so fully 
standardized as the scales, and there is more of the " per- 
sonal equation " in their interpretation. The experiment 
becomes less an observation for its own sake than a stand- 
ard situation, to which the subject's general reaction is 
significant. This point of view has much to commend 
it, as the laboratory in general presents a less artificial 
situation than do the single experimental tasks. 

In Knox's testing of immigrants, 17 the language factor 
must also be obviated. Like Healy, he makes reports of 
several concrete performance tests, typified by form- 
boards and construction " puzzles," in which the subject 
must fit blocks into their correct places on a frame. He 
also suggests judgments of emotional expressions; and 
the " ink-blot " test in which one sees what is suggested 
by the random shapes of the blots; this is intended as a 
test of the imaginative faculty. His best known contri- 
bution is the " Cube " test standardized by Pintner. In it, 

16 " Difficulties in the Interpretation of Mental Tests," Psychol. 
Clinic (1915), 140-158, 167-180. Cf. also Bronner, "Attitude as It 
Affects Performance of Tests," Psychol. Rev. (1916), 303-331. 

17 " Alien Mental Defectives," Stoelting, Chicago. 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 239 

four small cubes are placed before the subject and the 
experimenter taps them with another cube in an irregular 
succession. The subject is to repeat, that is, exactly imi- 
tate the experimenter's movements. At first simple tap- 
ping sequences are made and then more and more difficult 
sequences, until those are reached which are too compli- 
cated for the subject to follow. His efficiency in the test 
is measured by the degree of complication of sequence 
that he can follow. Pintner's standardization, with its 
simplicity and ease of making, gives this test high value; 
it combines convenience with a significant result. 

An inconvenient, but in other ways desirable, feature 
of the Binet scales is their continual use of different tests 
for different ages. The kinds of performance that test 
a child of four or five years are not so suitable for one of 
ten or twelve years. The Yerkes point-scale too, while 
scored independently of age, is heterogeneous in make-up. 
There are advantages in a small range of tests, or even a 
single test, which would show the step-by-step progress 
of the individual in the same kind of mental process. 
Pintner's standardization of the " Cube " test is a step 
in this direction. So is the multiple choice method of 
Yerkes, which is applicable from the highest human intel- 
ligence to the lowest forms of animal life. It involves 
the ability to select from a number of equally possible 
reactions a certain correct one, through its relation to the 
other possible reactions. For example, the correct re- 
action may be to strike the rightmost or leftmost of 
telegraph keys that are presented. Such a bit of learning 
lies within the accomplishment of a trained animal. Or 
the correct key might be alternately to right and left from 
the end, a distance of one plus the highest integer above 
the square root of the number of the keys. This would 



240 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

baffle most human attempts. One records the number of 
unsuccessful trials before solution, as well as the point 
at which the problem becomes too difficult to solve. 

Many tests have played their greatest part in the diag- 
nosis of defects. At least equally important is the devel- 
opment of methods to detect early aptitudes. On the one 
hand we wish to know whether an individual is defective, 
and on the other hand, what he is best fitted for. God- 
dard has found fitness for certain grades of work deter- 
minable through the Binet scale, which Healy quotes with 
some reservation. " The feeble-minded individual who 
grades 6 years, for instance, does tasks of short duration, 
and washes dishes; the mental defective of 8 years runs 
errands, does light work, makes beds ; the one who grades 
io years is a good institutional helper, does good rou- 
tine work. . . . Exceedingly interesting, though ... we 
should feel it entirely unsafe to give either a prognosis 
or to suggest treatment by means of it." 

Beyond the limits of the subnormal, the problem of 
mental measurement divides into two main parts. The 
first is a specialized inquiry whether a certain directly 
measurable aptitude is present in a person, or what aptr- 
tudes he has. This rounds out the scope of " intelli- 
gence " testing. The second concerns the complicated 
questions of " temperamental " qualities, which are more 
affected by emotional and instinctive factors. 

The directly measurable aptitudes that are significant 
in this connection are those directly useful in making a 
living. This is the field of vocational psychology. The 
problem of vocational selection is one of measuring and 
predicting ability to make specific adaptations. One 
measures and predicts a person's capacity for meeting 
particular situations, as those of the telephone switch- 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 241 

board, or the operation of an industrial machine, or quick 
computation with figures. Such aptitudes can be directly 
measured in the laboratory, because the laboratory can re- 
produce quite closely the actual conditions under which 
the work is done. Allowance must be made for the fact 
that the subject's knowledge of the " best " nature of the 
performance may affect the normality. He may be 
spurred by unusual effort or confused by nervousness. 
For example, the writer has reported observations of 
typewriting in which the performance of two subjects 
was sometimes measured as a part of a laboratory experi- 
ment, and sometimes without their knowledge, in the 
course of their regular work. The two subjects each 
wrote about nine-tenths as fast under " actual life " con- 
ditions as under laboratory conditions. On the other 
hand, one subject made five times as many mistakes under 
the laboratory conditions as under the actual life condi- 
tions; the other made only twice as many. If this result 
be generally valid, a typewriter's speed will be nine-tenths 
of his laboratory rate, but no laboratory performance is 
a sufficient index of accuracy in typewriting. 

The progress of tests for vocational selection in the 
kinds of vocation above discussed indicates that the gap 
between laboratory performance and actual life perform- 
ance is not an impassable one. The direct measures of 
motor processes and the simpler intellectual processes 
here involved give a fair idea of the individual's perform- 
ance in allied functions in actual life. Whoever can 
passably operate the model switchboard in the laboratory 
should learn to operate the real one in the Company's 
P exchange." 18 Hollingworth describes and discusses 

18 With the reservations pointed out by Hollingworth, " Vocational 
Psychology," 116-117. 
17 



£42 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

many experimental procedures that are significant in this 
direction. His book 19 should be the guide of those who 
are to explore this side of dynamic psychology beyond the 
limits of the present chapter. It must suffice in this con- 
nection to discuss the principles underlying experimenta- 
tion in the fields of character and temperament, and to 
describe specific experiments illustrating the points to be 
considered. 

It has already been mentioned that the abilities of the 
intelligence scales are not a complete test of adaptability 
to life. The same appears true of psychomotor adapta- 
tions of the type just discussed. A person may be en- 
tirely capable in the functions reached by these experi- 
ments, and still for " temperamental " reasons be unable 
to adjust himself happily. The point is perhaps worth 
some emphasis, that conspicuous failures of adaptation, 
as manifested in manic-depressive or dementia praecox 
cases, are continually to be observed in persons of marked 
psychomotor aptitudes such as typewriting, tennis, or per- 
formance on musical instruments. Indeed, skilled play- 
ers of chess or " auction-bridge " are to be found through- 
out hospitals for mental disease. From aptness at " slap- 
jack " to the mastery of chess, it is doubtful if there is 
any accomplishment, any " ability," whose possession 
gives an adequate token of what is called mental balance. 

The writer has made some quantitative studies that 
bear on this point. The choice reactions of laboratory 
experiment are adaptations whose fitness is a " conven- 
tion " of the experiment. It is made, for example, a 
proper reaction for the subject to tap with his thumb 
when he sees a figure " i " exposed ; with his forefinger 

19 Hollingworth, "Vocational Psychology" (1916). The Conduct 
of the Mind Series. 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 243 

to the figure " 2," etc. In such experiments subjects 
make mistakes now and then, just as the wrong key on 
the typewriter is struck with perfect knowledge of the 
right key. These " false reactions/' as the experimental- 
ist calls them, are failures of adjustment to the situation, 
just as it is a failure of adjustment for an animal to look 
for his food in a green compartment when it is being 
trained to look for it in a red one. Only in the man's 
case the falseness of the reaction is conventional, while 
in the animal's it is vital. The idea in the writer's ex- 
periments was to devise various choice-reaction methods, 
and see whether the failure of psychopathic subjects to 
make a normal adjustment to life was in any way re- 
flected by a corresponding failure to make these conven- 
tionalized adaptations as efficiently as the normal person. 
It would lead far afield to describe apparatus or experi- 
ments in detail, but five experimental procedures are in- 
volved in them, whose general features are as follows : 

Experiment (20). A number consisting of five figures is 
presented to the subject, one of which is underscored, such 
as 25413. He is to strike the corresponding one of five 
telegraph keys. 

Experiment (10). A number of five figures is presented 
to the subject, and he is to strike each one of the five tele- 
graph keys in the order which the number indicates. 

Experiment (50). Instead of five figures, a succession of 
the five vowels is presented, as e i u a. Each vowel is 
represented by its proper telegraph key, and the subject 
strikes in order as the succession indicates. 

Experiment (no). Simple additions are presented to 
the subject, sometimes right and sometimes wrong. If the 
sum is right, he strikes a key at his right hand ; if it is wrong, 
he strikes one at his left hand. 

Experiment (100). Simple statements are shown to the 
subject, which sometimes are correct, and sometimes incor- 
rect. If a statement is correct, he strikes the right-hand 
key ; if incorrect, he strikes the left-hand key. 



244 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Each experimental series consists of twenty-five sepa- 
rate observations, and results may be presented for an 
initial series taken with each of seventeen subjects. Six 
of these are normal individuals, and eleven pathological. 
The essential results are the time of the choice-reactions, 
and the number of mistakes made. 

There appears to be no characteristic difference between 
normal and pathological individuals in these results. But 
a suggestion is afforded by the relation between the reac- 
tion-times in series no and series ioo. Thus, the patho- 
logical subjects know as well as the normal that eight 
and nine do not make eighteen ; they do not know as read- 
ily as the normal that horses eat grass. In the patho- 
logical records, without regard to diagnosis, the discrim- 
ination of true and false statements of natural fact (se- 
ries ioo) takes relatively longer than the discrimination 
in statements of mathematical fact (series no). This 
result suggests a criterion of vital adaptations on the basis 
of efficiency in the laboratory adaptations of" choice re- 
action.'* 

Other attempts to analyze temperament and mental bal- 
ance experimentally go beyond the notions of good and 
poor performance in these experiments. In the scales, 
and the tests for vocational guidance, the experimental 
results are regularly expressed in terms of how much, 
how quickly and how accurately. One " passes " a test 
partly or wholly. In the methods now to be considered, 
the significance lies not in how much, how quickly or how 
accurately, i.e., amount; speed; accuracy; but how, in 
what manner, i.e., content and quality. Consider for ex- 
ample a free association-test in which the stimulus word 
true is given. The subject is to respond with the " first 
word it makes him think of." Subject X responds blue; 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 245 

time, two seconds. Subject Y responds Leonidas; time 
also two seconds. Given in an equal time, Leonidas de- 
notes more knowledge and reflection, and could reason- 
ably be assigned a higher ethical value; if we compared 
the responses by their intrinsic merit, few could fail to 
regard Leonidas as the better. But from many studies 
of association responses, as we shall later see, it appears 
that prominence of this type of response often denotes a 
not well balanced personality. 20 

The association methods, and those involving what is 
called measurement by relative position, have been cited 
as those best suited to discussion from this angle. Ex- 
cept for a few incidental aids, they make up the present 
laboratory apparatus of dynamic psychology, as it relates 
to the higher functions of mental balance. In both " as- 
sociation " and " relative position " methods the results 
may, and should, denote " better " or " worse " features 
in the subject's personality. But to do this best (qual- 
ity) is not part of the given experimental task, as is the 
case in most mental tests. The subject is not told what 
is the proper type of response in the association experi- 
ment, and then told to approximate it as closely as he can. 
The purpose of the experiment is to find how closely he 
approaches, of his own accord, the proper type of re- 
sponse. It would defeat the purpose to tell him what the 
correct principle in judging the relative gravity of dif- 
ferent offenses was, and then have him rate the offenses 
in order of gravity. He is asked in what order they 
seem to come in gravity, and we see how closely this 
order comes to that of persons having a normal sense of 
right and wrong. 

20 The precise meaning of mental balance is developed in the next 
chapter. 



246 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

To make intelligent use of these experimental methods 
one must understand the principles on which their special 
interpretation rests as well as peculiar sources of error 
in them. If one wishes to measure a person's memory, 
one gives him experimental material to remember, and 
sees how well he remembers it. If we wish to know a 
person's reaction-time we measure with a chronoscope, 
reading to thousandths of a second, what time it takes 
him to lift his hand on hearing a given sound. We can- 
not conceive objective measures like these for a person's 
kindliness, merit as a psychologist, or literary ability. 
But it is plain that people differ in these qualities, and that 
some are more like one another in these respects than 
are others. 

Shakespeare and Milton are more alike in liter- 
ary merit than either is like Sir William Davenant. 
They have made great impressions on the minds of men, 
while their less known colleague has made but a slight 
one. Measurement by relative position is based upon 
considering that Milton is a greater poet than Davenant 
through the fact that he has thus more greatly impressed 
his fellow men. Again, if Shakespeare is a greater poet 
than Milton, this simply means that most people who 
know them both consider him so. 

Measurement by relative position consists in syste- 
matic comparisons of this kind. Accordingly, to compare 
the literary merits of Shakespeare, Milton, Donne, Burns, 
Lyndesay, Crabbe and others, we should have people who 
know them well rate them in the order of their excel- 
lence. If English poets were graded in this way, there 
would be practical unanimity about the first four, and 
from there on disagreements would increase. Professor 
Cattell had ten leading psychologists grade fifty of their 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 247 

colleagues in this way. 21 It was found that all the ten 
put the same man at the head, and that disagreement be- 
came greater as the lower places in the scale were reached. 
This leading man was certainly the greatest American 
psychologist. About his most eminent colleagues there 
was more uncertainty; but their positions and the cer- 
tainty with which they belonged in them could be calcu- 
lated from the ratings assigned them by their fellows. 
Estimates were obtained of American men of letters, 
from twenty persons qualified to judge. 22 The rankings 
were as follows : 



Name 


Average Position 


Probable Error 


Hawthorne 


2.5 


.21 


Poe 


2.6 


.25 


Emerson 


2.9 


•37 


Lowell 


44 


.35 


Longfellow 


5-1 


.25 


Irving 


57 


.31 


Bryant 


7.1 


•35 


Thoreau 


7-9 


•37 


Holmes 


8.1 


.21 


Cooper 


8.4 


.33 



Ten of Poe's stories were rated as follows by forty 
women undergraduate students: 

Title Average Position Probable Error 

The Fall of the House of Usher 
The Murders in the Rue Morgue 
Ligeia 

The Purloined Letter 
William Wilson 
The Telltale Heart 
The Cask of Amontillado 
Metzengerstein 
Loss of Breath 
Le Due de L'Omelette 

It must not be lost sight of, however, that such data 
as these measure, not Poe's stories themselves, but other 

21 Statistics of American Psychologists," Am. I. Psychol. 14 (1903), 
310-328. 
22 Wells, "Archives of Psychology," No. 7 (1907), 30. 



3.6 


.26 


4.0 


•35 


4.1 


.22 


4.6 


•53 


H 


.24 


5.8 


>30 


6.0 


.38 


6.6 


.26 


7.i 


.30 


77 


.32 



248 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

people's reactions to them. We measure the value of 
Poe's stories only in so far as we take other people's re- 
actions to them as the criterion of their value. 23 Now to 
the psychologist it is no great matter whether " Le Due de 
L'Omelette " is or is not a better story than " The Mur- 
ders in the Rue Morgue." But since the normal judg- 
ment is tremendously in favor of the latter, it is evidence 
of abnormal literary judgment to grade " Le Due de 
L'Omelette " as superior. Whoever considered Marston 
a greater poet than Spenser would show an abnormal 
mental reaction. Thus these measurements indicate the 
normality of persons' mental reactions. The method is 
here of greater significance for what it reveals about those 
who judge them, than for its valuation of the things 
judged. 

This feature of the method — measuring the mental 
reactions of the graders rather than the things graded — 
was more prominent in one of the earlier studies, that of 
F. B. Sumner, 24 than in many which followed it, 25 when 
interest centered rather on perfecting the method as an 
instrument. Sumner caused one hundred persons to ar- 
range twenty-five propositions in order of confidence of 
definite beliefs. Upon some, as whether George Wash- 
ington ever lived, every one would hold a definite opinion ; 
upon others, as whether there would be frost in New 
York City September following, few people would hold 
a definite opinion. Without reproducing Sumner's anal- 
yses in detail, the general order of certainty in the beliefs 
was as follows : 

23 Cf. Hollingworth, "Vocational Psychology," 148. 

s* Psychol. Rev. 5 (1898), 616-631. 

25 For a comprehensive review, with many original data, cf. Holling- 
worth, " Empirical Studies in Judgment," Arch, of Psychol. 29 (1913), 
119. (Bibliography.) 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 249 

Average Position Yes No 

i. Do two plus two equal four? 1.7 100 o 

2. Are there other human minds besides your own? 3.9 100 

3. Did George Washington live ? 4.1 100 o 

4. Am I awake at the present moment, i.e., not 

merely dreaming ? 4.2 100 o 

5. Is the earth round ? 4.7 95 5 

6. Will the sun rise to-morrow ? 6.0 100 

7. Does the present life alone furnish sufficient 

motives for moral conduct ? 9.1 74 26 

8. Does the moon's attraction cause the tides ? 9.4 97 1 

9. Is matter ever created or destroyed ? 10.2 86 11 

10. Is the evolution of living beings a fact? 10.2 95 5 

11. Will poetry always be held in high regard by the 

most cultivated minds ? 12.1 98 2 

12. Is the world becoming better ? 12.1 96 4 

13. Is a man's conduct determined entirely by 

heredity and the circumstances of his life? 12.1 37 61 

14. Will the most honest man you know be honest 

ten years hence ? 13.1 98 

15. Is the scientific mind as truly creative as the 

artistic ? > 13.6 48 52 

16. Do any landscape paintings yield so much satis- 

faction as the finer natural scenes ? 13.6 26 71 

17. Would a college education be, on the whole, an 

advantage to the majority of young men? 14.0 73 26 

18. Do spirits of the departed ever communicate 

with living persons? (We refer only to 

modern times.) 14.9 14 80 

19. Would this continent have become as quickly 

civilized if it had remained colonial? 15.5 11 87 

20. Is the protective tariff a wise policy for the 

United States ? 15.6 49 50 

21. Will the death penalty for murder always be held 

justifiable among civilized people? 16.4 33 61 

22. Will our Republic endure another hundred years? 16.6 93 5 

23. Is there life on other heavenly bodies ? 19.8 62 27 

24. Will there be frost in New York City September 

next ? 21.8 24 55 

25. Is there an even number of persons in New York 

City? 25.0 o o 

That is, most of the people were surer about two and 
two making four than about any of the other things. But 
not every one was surest of it, for then its position would 
have been 1.0 instead of 1.7. Everybody is least certain 
about the number of persons in New York City. 
Whether our nation will last until 1998 appeared some- 
what less certain than whether the world was growing 



250 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

better. Men as a class were more certain than women 
about the sum of two and two, about the existence of 
other human minds, about the cause of the tides, as to 
the advantage of college for young men, and the wis- 
dom of a protective tariff. The results bring out neatly 
that unanimity in a belief may be quite out of proportion 
to its certainty. Most people think the world is becom- 
ing better, that honesty is permanent, and that the Repub- 
lic will endure. But their opinions are not so certain 
as about things showing more disagreement. His sub- 
jects disagree much as to whether the present life provides 
adequate motives for moral conduct, but they are surer of 
the opinion they do hold. 

Such observations are clearly of " mental " reactions in 
the narrower sense of the term. They do not aim to go 
beyond telling us how people think about their fellow 
psychologists, about American men of letters, about the 
existence of life on other planets. For this information 
to be practically effective, those who hold beliefs should 
act in some consistent way with what they think, or, more 
strictly, tell us that they think. That this is not wholly 
the case is a common observation. It would not so much 
matter that actions speak louder than words, but they 
are so apt to say different things. The mechanism of 
dissociation provides amply for a man's honestly rating 
Hawthorne as the greatest American writer, and, through 
unconscious motives, spending most of his time reading 
Thoreau. 

To judge of a subject's personality on the basis of 
gradings like these, it is necessary to know how far his 
ideas thus expressed are reflected in his conduct. Tho 
existence of people on other planets is not put to any test 
of action, and we only have the subject's word for the 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 251 

actuality of his belief. On the other hand, people may 
be afraid of ghosts, who do not " believe " in them; like 
the astronomers who rightly predict eclipses, and believe 
eclipses to result from a dragon's swallowing the sun. 
There, one belief is expressed in thought, but another in 
action. Action is the proper test ; " Not he that saith 
unto me, Lord, Lord." The source of error in measure- 
ment by relative position is, that it is limited to an ex- 
pression of the conscious judgment. This is a basic 
source of error in the application of all laboratory psy- 
chology to actual life. With examinations like those of 
the oculist, it is not serious. The lens which seems the 
best in the oculist's examining room will regularly be the 
best in practice. In weightier and more personal passages 
of life, the role of the unconscious in determining actions 
becomes greater. It is necessary, therefore, to see how 
one's reactions in relative position measurement fit with 
corresponding reactions in the test of life. 

Two kinds of observations with relative position have 
been made which lie nearer to a test of action than those 
above mentioned. One concerns the moral sense. 

It has long been recognized that offenses differ in their 
gravity or heinousness, are susceptible, indeed, of quanti- 
tative scaling in magnitude — 

" It's wrong to murder babies, little corals for to fleece, 
But sins like these one expiates at half-a-crown apiece." 

Moral sense is measurable by relative position; moral 
conduct according to one's social adaptations. Does an 
inferiority in moral conduct show a corresponding inferi- 
ority in moral sense ? 

My former colleague, Dr. G. G. Fernald, drew up a 
series of ten offenses, and had them rated in order of 



252 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

gravity by three groups of persons. One group consisted 
of a hundred reformatory boys and young men, 26 the 
second, of twelve normal students of a manual training 
school, the third of " fifteen persons of mature judgment 
and of some experience with offenders and their offenses." 
His results were as follows: 

Average Positions 

Ref. School Adult 
Group Group Group 

1. To take two or three apples from 

another man's orchard 2.69 1.66 1.00 

2. To take a cent from a blind man's cup 3.04 3.10 2.73 

3. To break windows for fun 4.13 3.25 3.53 

4. To throw hot water on a cat or in 

any other way cause it to suffer 

needlessly 4.80 4.42 3.80 

5. To break into a building to rob it . . . 5.55 5.83 . 5.60 

6. To take money as " Graft " or " Rake- 

Off" when you are a city or 

government official 6.01 5.66 5.80 

7. To try to kill yourself 6.33 5.58 6.73 

8. To get a nice girl into family way 

and then leave her 6.84 6.75 7.53 

9. To set fire to a house with people in it 7.21 9.60 8.60 
10. To shoot to kill a man who runs away 

when you try to rob him 8.33 8.33 9.66 

The orders are practically the same in each group. 
But that means little, because with a large number of 
cases, as in the reformatory group, great departures from 
the normal would balance one another. The individual's 
moral sense is given in the amount of his own personal 
departure from a standard to which he ought to conform. 
We may see from Fernald's tables 27 that the most de- 
parture from the average occurs in the reformatory group, 
and the least in the normal adult group. Of the delin- 

26 In passing it may be noted that the natural interest of the re- 
formatory group would lie in the direction of showing their best 
moral perceptions in the test. They are persons seeking, not to es- 
cape judgment on the ground of mental defect, but to regain a normal 
freedom. 

27 Am. J. Insanity, 68 (1912), 547. 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 253 

quents, eight put suicide in the place normally occupied by 
taking the penny from the blind man's cup. Seven rate 
taking apples from a man's orchard in the normal posi- 
tion of suicide. Seven give breaking windows for fun 
the normal position of seduction and abandonment. 
None of these ratings is made by the normal adults, and 
there is but a single instance of one among the normal 
adolescents. These results show that the deficiency in 
moral conduct is to some extent reflected in a deficiency 
of moral sense. They do not inform us how close the 
correspondence is. Only a much more detailed compari- 
son of the individual's behavior with his judgments could 
do that. 

In the spring of 19 13 the writer made this experiment, 
slightly varied, with a group of ten normal women 
(nurses). The actual form of words used in the experi- 
ment is not given, but its purport is to consider the 
case of John Smith, aged twenty-two, single, a clerk in 
a corner grocery. The offenses were to be scaled accord- 
ing to the severity of punishment which he would merit 
for them. The positions were as follows : 

1. Murdering a man who runs away when held up 1.7 

2. Seduction and abandonment . 2.1 

3. Pouring kerosene on dog and setting fire to him 4.4 

4. Falsely accusing a fellow employee 4.9 

5. Overcharging customer 5.2 

6. Housebreaking 5.4 

7. Taking nickel from blind man 6.1 

8. Setting fire to some one's empty barn 7.5 

9. Taking peck of apples from orchard 8.8 

10. Ringing false fire alarm 8.9 

The subjects in this experiment were selected with re- 
gard to their personalities ; five being those resembling a 
certain person A as closely as possible, and five bearing 
the closest resemblance to a very different person B. 



254 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

This test was made along with other experiments to see 
whether such great differences in personality would be re- 
flected in it. They are not. The A and B groups do 
not tend to grade particular offenses higher or lower. 
The conscious surface of character reached in these ex- 
perimental judgments does not include the forces that 
determine the differences in personality. 

In estimating, three years after the experiments, how 
well these subjects are adjusted, the original A and B 
groups are divided as follows: i-A, 2- A, 3-A, 4-A, 5-B, 
6-A, 7-B, 8-B, 9-B, 10-B. Superiority of the A group 
over the B is well established. Yet those of the B group 
are nearer the average standard in moral perception. 
This is further evidence that features making for a 
" normal " judgment are not essentially effective in de- 
termining mental balance. 

This point is also brought out in some findings of 
Haines. 28 He reports analogous tests with four groups 
of women, in which the results are as follows : 

Average Positions 

Normal Delinquent 

14 16 21 

1st Yr. Doubtf. High 

High 26 No Intell. Grade 

Sch. Defect Def. Def. 

1. Not to go to Sunday School and 

church and never to read your Bible 1.5 4.5 7.5 7.5 

2. To put poison in the food of some- 
one whom you dislike 2.4 1.9 2.4 1.9 

3. To spend the night in a hotel with 

some young man 3.5 29 2.7 1.8 2.5 

4. To tell a wicked lie about some girl 4.5 6.1 5.7 5.7 

5. To flirt with a nice young man on 

the street 5-5 8.5 8.5 7.2 

28 " Diagnostic Values of some Performance Tests," Psychol. Rev. 
22 (1915), 303-304- 

29 Haines considers that this is low because of failure to under- 
stand what is meant. 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 255 

Average Positions 

Normal Delinquent 

14 16 21 

1st Yr. Doubtf. High 

High 26 No Intell. Grade 

Sch. Defect Def. Def. 

6. To take a box of candy from the 

store where you work 5-5 5-3 5-3 57 

7. To take a hair ribbon from your 
employer when she knows nothing 

of it 57 5-8 6.2 5.9 

8. To get mad and break the dishes 
when the woman for whom you 

work finds fault with you 8.5 8.6 8.2 7.5 

9. To throw scalding water on the cat 9.1 7.5 74 7-5 
10. To spank the baby because you are 

out of patience 9.3 8.1 8.7 7.3 

The orders vary more here than in the groups reported 
by Fernald, and the steps between the offenses are not 
so great. Considerable discrepancies between moral per- 
ception and moral conduct appear. It is not probable that 
the ratings of the high school girls correspond with their 
actual standards of conduct. These are determined by 
forces that do not gain expression in the experiment. 
Haines' results indeed would make moral sense nearly 
useless for the estimate of standards of conduct. G. G. 
Fernald, however, puts it among his " tests retained," 
and Healy looks on it not without favor when the lan- 
guage difficulty is obviated through pictures. His criti- 
cisms are pertinent : " For instance, the killing of a 
moose may be looked at from the standpoint of a hungry 
woodsman, of a game warden, or of a nature lover like 
Thereat" The most these experiments can do is to re- 
flect the conscious, which does not search the fundamental 
springs of action. 

A closer comparison of relative position measurement 
with the test of action has been made in the study of ad- 
vertising material. If one can tell by preliminary relative 
position measurements what advertising copy is best, 



256 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

much saving of advertising expense results. To measure 
by relative position the quality of an advertisement, one 
takes a number of advertisements, of a popular soap, for 
example, and causes subjects to rate them in the order 
in which the advertisements would cause them to buy the 
soap. One could not, of course, measure how closely this 
represented the real order in which the advertisements 
would induce these subjects to buy the soap. It remained 
to compare the advertisements by the amount of business 
they produced. Both Hollingworth and E. K. Strong 
have made comparisons of this nature, which indicate that 
the order in which the subjects think they would respond 
to the advertisements in the experiments shows a distinct- 
correspondence with the order in which the public re- 
sponds by buying. But the correspondence is not com- 
plete. What are the influences that disturb it? First, 
there are many factors, familiar to the business expert, 
which make it hard to gauge the volume of business pro- 
duced by a definite advertisement. Second, those who 
rate the advertisements may not be fair representatives of 
the buying public. While these objections are practically 
important, neither invalidates the method. On the one 
hand, there are ways of advertising and selling that give 
quite accurate returns; on the other, a wise selection of 
graders obviates the difficulty. Third, the factors which 
make us rate an advertisement first in persuasiveness may 
not be the ones that really make us buy. The more we 
eliminate the other two difficulties, the nearer we approach 
to measuring this fundamental one. The fairest test of 
the method is under conditions where sales or inquiries 
can most certainly be referred to definite advertising 
material. Where the purchaser may have seen a dozen 
different advertisements of the same product, and may 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 257 

buy it in any number of different stores, this is next to 
impossible. Only where appeal and response are on the 
" direct by mail " plan, are advertisements capable of 
the most accurate testing. Then we know best what ap- 
peals have been made and what responses received to each. 
A practical illustration of this is shown in a business 
house sending out sales letters to a mailing list of some 
20,000 names. They will first try out different sales 
letters with a smaller group of names. A letter must yield 
adequate results in this testing before being sent to the 
larger list. It has been said that a testing list of 500 
names is sufficient for the purposes involved. 

Adams 30 has compared the relative position merit of 
advertisements with the number of inquiries they produce. 
The advertising itself appears not to have been " direct 
by mail,'' but of the magazine type. The number of 
graders was 161. As the test in action was, here, the 
number of inquiries, not the number of sales, it was 
fitting that the laboratory test should also be of persuasive- 
ness toward answering the advertisement rather than 
toward buying the goods. Three sets of advertisements 
were used. For the set showing the clearest differences 
in merit there was a corresponding difference in the num- 
ber of inquiries produced. In one of the remaining two 
sets a fairly reliable order of laboratory merit was ob- 
tained. In the other, the graders disagreed a good deal. 
These latter two arrangements both showed a negative 
relation to the number of replies; that is, the advertise- 
ments thought to be better did not bring so many answers. 
The most interesting discrepancy of the laboratory and 

30 "The Adequacy of the Laboratory Test in Advertising," 
Psychol. Rev. 22 (1915), 402-422. Adams' more extensive work, 
"Advertising and Its Mental Laws" (Macmillan), appears as this 
volume is in press. 

18 



258 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

the action tests concerns two advertisements in different 
sets, of which one covered the full page with a return- 
coupon, and the other was identically worded, but covered 
a half-page with no return-coupon. Each of these ad- 
vertisements was ranked by the graders the poorest of 
its group. That is, the return-coupon did not alter the 
position of the advertisements in the laboratory test. In 
the action test, the advertisement having the return-coupon 
was the best of its group, not only in number of inquiries, 
but in cost per inquiry and in profit. Its half -page replica 
without the return-coupon was the worst of its group in 
number of inquiries and in cost per inquiry and next to 
worst in profit. The return-coupon appealed to motives 
most effective for action, but which did not come to the 
surface in the laboratory test. 

At its best, a " relative position " experiment tells us as 
much as self-examination reveals about men's principles 
and probable conduct. This is somewhat in accord with 
actual conduct, but not wholly so. Important trends of 
conduct are not in consciousness and do not appear to self- 
examination. They produce apparent discrepancies and 
inconsistencies between thought and conduct. By com- 
paring its results with the test of action, we observe how 
important such unconscious forces are in the persons we 
study. For the return-coupon advertisement, they were 
very important. 

The " association " experiments have little in common 
with " relative position " measurements, except for shar- 
ing with them a primacy among measures of the higher 
mental adjustments. Association experiments are practi- 
cally confined to language material, and depend on normal 
ability in the use of language. They measure the lan- 
guage reactions of the subject under more or less stand- 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 259 

ardized conditions. A " stimulus "-word may be spoken 
to the subject, and he is to respond as soon as possible by 
speaking a word that stands in a certain relation to it. 
In one type of experiment, the response is to be the op- 
posite of the stimulus-word, like white, black. In an- 
other, the stimulus-word is a verb, and the response must 
fit an object to it, like pull, zvagon. Various relations of 
this sort can be used. 31 They are called controlled asso- 
ciation tests, because the relation of the response to the 
stimulus-word is quite restricted. The " opposites " test, 
which is the easiest, has found special use in tests of in- 
telligence, as this function is reflected in one's ability with 
language. 

Another, and for the present purpose more significant, 
type of association experiments, is called the free associ- 
ation test. 32 Here the subject is instructed, in effect, to 
respond with the first word suggested by the stimulus- 
word. One is soon struck by the fact that this takes 
longer than when the response is more restricted. It takes 
less time to give the opposite of slow than to give the first 
thing it suggests. Because so many responses might fit 
the experiment, there is more rivalry between them and 
they block one another. In general, the time is longer 
for women than for men. A normal time of free associ- 
ation response is about two seconds; knowledge of the 
speed of mental processes testifies that this is a liberal 
allowance. Sometimes the free association time is as 
much as five or ten seconds and more. In such cases it 
is clear that mental blocking has taken place. Perhaps 

31 For a review of them, cf. "Association Tests," Psychol. Monog. 
57 (ion), 85. 

32 Haggerty and Kempf have made an interesting use of controlled 
association tests in functions more usually assigned to the free as- 
sociation test. Am, J, Psychol, 24 (1913), 414-425. 



260 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

the ideas coming up have been such as the subject does 
not wish to express. 

This experiment has, in fact, become most popularly 
known as a possible means for the detection of wrong- 
doers, but research has not wholly encouraged this inter- 
pretation. 33 

While it hardly gives an objective method for estab- 
lishing guilty knowledge, it yields striking information 
about the trends of thought in the mind. The arousal 
of an emotionally colored trend in the association experi- 
ment has been found to be accompanied by more, or fewer, 
of numerous symptoms, the following enumeration of 
which is adapted from Pfister : 34 

A. External. 

i. Bodily manifestations : Clearing throat, stammering, gesture be- 
fore or after the response, twitching, tears, sighing, psychogalvanic 
reflex, 35 pulse change, etc. 

2. Immediate correction of the response, after utterance or at its 
beginning. 

3. Lengthened reaction time, i.e., reaction times above the subject's 
median (not average) time for the series. (This is rather too wide.) 

B. Internal. 

1. Misunderstanding of the stimulus-word. 

2. A response consisting of : 

(a) Naming an object in sight, as window. 

(b) Translations into a foreign language. 

(c) Repetition of the stimulus-word. 

(d) Minor change of the stimulus-word; as, sick, sickly. 

(e) Sound associations, as rhymes. 

(f) Stilted reactions. 

(g) " Perseverations " ; the response is relevant not to the 
immediate stimulus-word, but to one already given. 

33 Cf. the comprehensive review of Rittershaus, " Die Komplex- 
forschung," Journ. f. Psych, u. Neurol. 15 (1910), 61-83, 184-220; 
16 (1910), 1-43. (Bibliography.) Also, " Zur Frage der Komplex- 
forschung," Arch. f. d. Ges. Psychol. 28! (1913), 324-335, and Crane, 
"A Study in Association and Reaction Time," Psychol. Monog. 80 
(1915), 61. 

34 D. psa. Met., 285-286. 

35 (a) A change in the relative potential of different parts of the 
body; (b) a diminution of resistance in the body, ensuing upon a 
stimulus that arouses a special emotional reaction. 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 261 

(h) "Failure of reproduction"; the subject cannot, after 
the series is completed, remember the response to a 
given stimulus-word, or gives some other without try- 
ing to remember. 

These are called " complex indicators " by those who 
formulated them. No one of them is a certain or essen- 
tial symptom, and little significance in this respect should 
attach to any association accompanied by less than two 36 
which are functionally independent. 

The more of these symptoms an individual shows in 
an association record, the greater the indications of un- 
balanced affect in the personality. But these observa- 
tions have been used more to bring out the existence of 
certain special emotional " complexes " in patients than 
for a general diagnosis of mental balance. The most im- 
portant observations on this point deal with a feature of 
the response-words. There is a class of responses called 
the predicate or egocentric type of responses. The true- 
Leonidas above cited is an example of them. 37 In normal 
persons, from 15 to 45 per cent of associative responses 
belong to this group. Single series have been taken with 
as low as 2 per cent and as high as 60 per cent; but the 
number of these is a fairly constant attribute of the indi- 
vidual. 38 The number of these " egocentric " associ- 
ations has been thought, with reason, to bear a peculiar re- 
lation to the subject's general personality. It has not 
yet been formulated quite acceptably. Says Jung : 

According to my experience, this association type is 
important for the diagnosis of an inadequate transference 

36 Cf. Dooley, " Correlation of Normal Complexes," Am. J. Psychol. 
27 (1916), esp. 131-139- 

37 For a full definition of the category, cf. Psychol. Rev. 18 (1911), 
220-233. 

38 "The Question of Association Types," Psychol. Rev. 19 (1912), 
253-270. 



262 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

of affect to the sexual object. The personality of this type 
projects, in an evident manner, a tremendous amount of 
affect upon the outer world, and he shows these feelings in 
the unadmitted, but none the less transparent, endeavor to 
awaken a sympathetic feeling in the experimenter. . . . 
Jahrb. f. psa. u. psp. Forsch. (1909), 157. 

And Ferenczi: 

The healthy person answers promptly, with a logically or 
phonetically associated response. But with the neurotic, 
the unbalanced affects take possession of the stimulus-word, 
and seek to exploit it in their own sense. ... It is not the 
stimulus-words which arouse the affectful reaction, but the 
hungry affects of the neurotic come to meet it. The neu- 
rotic, so to speak, " introjects " the stimulus-words. " In- 
trojektion u. Uebertragung," Jahrb. f. psa. u. psp. Forsch. 
(1909), 432. 

According to Pfister: 

If a subject makes considerable use of adjectives with a 
value content (characteristic of egocentric association-type), 
he informs us that there is a large amount of " floating " 
unbalanced energy ; that he is not well adapted in his instinc- 
tive life. D. psa. Met., 280. 

If these views are justified, the egocentric reactions are 
an important criterion of mental adjustment. This is 
abundantly attested in certain persons. On the other 
hand, there are certain things that should follow, which 
do not. 39 Even if we state it more broadly, that the ego- 
centric reaction type indicates special lack of balance 
somewhere in the instinctive life, there is a body of facts 
which is not covered. It will be best to examine a cross- 
section of the evidence, and observe the manner in which 
this interpretation of the association test applies within 
the limits of its use. 

39 Notably in cases of mental disease. 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 

The A and B groups mentioned in connection with the 
experiments on moral perception (pp. 253-254) also un- 
derwent an association test using the word list prepared 
by Kent and Rosanoff. Arranged in the order of egocen- 
tric responses which they gave, the A and B groups ran : 
1, 52%, A; 2, 44%, B; 3, 42%, A; 4, 42%, A; 5, 41%, 
B; 6, 32%, A; 7, 32%, A; 8, 26%, B; 9, 19%, B; 10, 
9%, B. The persons A and B themselves, who were the 
prototypes by which the above groups were selected, 
showed in more extensive experiments 47% and 17% of 
egocentric reactions respectively. 

The investigator was but little acquainted with any of 
these subjects, with the exception of A and B themselves. 
He did not know till after the experiments had been 
evaluated who were supposed to resemble A or B. They 
were selected for him by a person of mature judgment, 
not a psychologist, but who best combined the qualifica- 
tions necessary to make such a selection. It was sup- 
posed to be simply on the basis of temperamental resem- 
blance to A or B. At the time of the experiment, the 
investigator made in eight cases a note of the group to 
which each one seemed to belong. His judgment agreed 
in seven of these eight cases with that of the person who 
had selected them. In one case there was disagreement. 
In one of the remaining two no judgment by the writer 
is recorded. 

A case only doubtfully assigned by the writer is No. 2 
above. He finds her to " resemble A more than No. 7 
does," without being clearly put in either group. Her as- 
sociations, with 44% of egocentrics, are characteristic of 
the A group, but she was selected as a B. This led to 
the question whether, since human personality is such a 
compound thing, she might not have qualities which would 



264? MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

produce an A reaction type together with others that had 
caused the selector to put her in the B group. Further 
inquiry develops that this personality is indeed not well 
adjusted; laughs and cries with abnormal readiness; fails 
to carry out the instructions of her work ; seems to be al- 
ways in a dreamland. This fully entitles her to the 
high egocentricity of her responses, on the hypothesis 
that many egocentric responses reflect a lack of balance 
in the affective life. 

No. 5 above, rated as B, shows more egocentric re- 
sponses than characterize a B personality. When inquiry 
develops that she is of unhappy disposition, making al- 
most no friends, discontented and blue, this case must 
also be regarded as consistent with the hypothesis that 
egocentric responses mean unbalanced affects. Though 
selected as B personalities, these persons possess the char- 
acteristics that produce an A reaction to the association 
test. 

The five selections to the A group, Nos. i, 3, 4, 6, and 7, 
show a number of egocentric reactions well above the 
average of a larger number of unselected subjects. Their 
average would be not quite twice as many. They have 
been uniformly better in their profession than the mem- 
bers of the B group. Below are given in parallel column 
certain incidental notes which were taken during the ex- 
periments, for the A and B groups. They give the best 
characterizations for comparing the A personalities with 
theB. 

A Group B Group 
(m) Manner subdued, but co- (q) Shyness at start. Less 

operates with exceptional poise than subject m, who 

readiness and efficiency. was tested just before her. 

Asks questions indicating Takes much instruction, 

some idea of different Fidgets as stimulus-words 

(moral) standards, the are given. If educated 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 265 

judgment is on personal would regard as A, but be- 

opinion of heinousness; ing uneducated, as B (in 

of possible consequence of agreement with selector), 

so doing, 
(n) Is more subdued than above, (r) Shakes hands with an as- 
Blames self for not under- sured smile. Talks more 

standing part of test at first. than others, but in associa- 

Fidgets a good deal when tion test has difficulties when 

blocked (in association test). "nothing comes," at which 

Asks about standards in times she does not get 

moral test. stirred up or fidget espe- 

cially. Does not seem so 
bashful as m and n, who 
were tested before her. 
(p) Catches on very well. Sub- (s) Is assured at first, less so 
dued. Clears throat much later, then again more spon- 

in association test, starts to taneous. Is quiet, not mak- 

speak, changes to another ing unnecessary remarks, 

word. Spontaneously as- Does not rearrange cards as 

sembles certain cards used p did. Incline to B group, 

in assistance to examiner. but would be very doubtful 

but for the observation of 
results involved in record- 
ing them. 

The general results are consistent with the view that the 
egocentric association type indicates a greater " loading " 
of the experiment with affect; and, as the affect is there 
to be loaded, it is evidently not taken care of elsewhere in 
the personality. The experiment becomes a token of the 
amount of this " free-floating " affect. It does not indi- 
cate whether the person's general reaction to it is good, 
as it is with the A group in general, or inferior, as it is 
with Nos. 2 and 5 above. 

Jung considers this free-floating affect to be of an erotic 
nature, detached from the sexual object where it properly 
belongs, so that the sexual object is insufficiently 
" loaded " with it. If this is the case, we should expect 
sexual adaptations to be more difficult in the A group 
than in the B. In fact, of the subjects assigned by the 
writer to the A group, not one has married (July, 19 16). 
Their prototype, A, herself remains unmarried. Of the 



266 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

subjects apparently belonging to the B group, four out of 
five have since married. Their prototype, B, is also 
married. 

There are no physical differences between the groups 
consistent with this fact. But the most noticeable social 
difference between the A and B groups is that the latter 
are much more open in their attitude toward the opposite 
sex. The A group are more repressed in this direction. 
The natural inference is to regard their greater profes- 
sional efficiency as due to a " loading " of their work with 
affect normally attached to the erotic sphere. Since their 
work is useful, and represents a good type of affective 
transference, it belongs to the type defined in Chapter IV 
as sublimation. In the B type, whose eroticism is freer, 
this transference, or sublimation, does not take place; 
they lack this access of energy for their work and so are 
less efficient in it. 40 

In connection with these tests there was developed a 
system for recording the data on the personality. It has 
been shown at different times that personal traits are 
measurable by relative position. That is, if several per- 
sons independently grade some one in respect to his in- 
tellectual ability, cooperativeness, cheerfulness, etc., there 
is fairly close agreement among them as to how much of 
these traits he possesses. 41 It is necessary to have an in- 
clusive view of the personality, since traits may mean dif- 

40 For further references on the association test and personality, 
cf. Psychol. Bui. 13 (1916), 146. Also Moore, "A Method of 
Testing the Strength of Instincts," Am. J. Psychol. 27 (1916), 226- 

233. 

41 The first published study seems to be that of Norsworthy, 
" Validity of Judgments of Character," Essays in Honor of Williaw, 
James (1908), 553-567. Much additional material is now available 
in Hollingworth, "Vocational Psychology" (1916), esp. Chs. II, 
VI and VII. 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 267 

ferent things to the personality according to the setting 
in which they occur. Kindliness, for example, in social 
relations, or to animals, may be fundamental, or compen- 
satory to unbalanced love-life (cf. Ch. IV, p. 116). 
The series of traits finally evolved is given below. The 
necessity for adapting it to " relative position " treatment 
often excluded questions that require topical answers. 
But topical information is altogether essential to an intel- 
ligent grading of these traits. The series aims to be so 
inclusive that, if its ground is reliably covered, one has a 
complete idea of how the individual attempts to adjust 
himself to life, and how well he succeeds in doing so. It 
should acquaint us with the character of his mental bal- 
ance, and its weaknesses, and we should be in a position 
to advise what are the best courses to remedy them. The 
usual data in regard to age, occupation, etc., are of course 
assumed. About 90 topics of inquiry are included, di- 
vided into 14 sections as follows: 42 

I. Intellectual Processes 

1. Ease of learning 

2. Goodness of memory 

3. Fund of information 

4. Goodness of observation 

5. Vividness of mental imagery 

II. Output of Energy 

6. How much motor activity 

7. Talkativeness 

8. Skill with tools, needlework, etc. 

9. Bodily dexterity and grace 

42 Their statement is much abbreviated here. They are more fully 
presented and explained in "The Systematic Observation of the 
Personality — in its Relation to the Hygiene of Mind," Psychol. Rev. 
21 (1914), 295-332. Cf. also Hoch and Amsden, "A Guide to the 
Descriptive Study of the Personality," Rev. of Neurol, and Psy- 
chiat. 11 (1913), 577-587. 



268 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

III. Self-assertion 

io. Effort to shape surroundings 

11. Independence of the opinion of others 

12. Tendency to assume leadership 

13. Extent of material ambitions 

14. Bearing up under difficulties and misfortunes 

15. Ability to face crises 

16. Inclination to face danger 

IV. Adaptability 

17. Getting along with children 

18. Getting along with people in older years (tactfulness) 

19. Conformable to discipline 

20. Tendency to be guided by advice 

21. Resourcefulness 

V. General Habits of Work 

22. Promptness in meeting situations 

23. Tendency to system in work 

24. Executive tendencies (leader or follower) 

25. Persistence 

26. Punctuality 

VI. Moral Sphere 

27. Keeping of word 

28. Truthfulness in matters of present or past 

29. Trustworthiness in money matters 

30. Conscientiousness in performance of duty 

31. Discretion with the reputation of others 

32. Mindful of the equal rights of others 

VII. Recreative Activities 

33. Sports of quick and continuous activity 

34. Less active sports 

35. Hunting or fishing 

36. Camp life in general 

37. Games of intellectual character 

38. Mental games of less intellectual character 

39. Gambling or wagers 

40. Alcohol 

41. Tobacco 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 269 

42. Other drugs 

43. Reading 

44. Music 

45. Pictures 

46. Artistic creations 

47. Delicacies in eating or drinking 

48. Sports involving physical danger 

VIII. General Cast of Mood 

49. Cheerfulness 

50. Stability 

51. Depth 

IX. Attitude Toward Self 

52. Self-consciousness 

53. Conceit 

54. Patience, capacity to " endure to the end " 

55. Demand for self -justification 

X. Attitude Toward Others 

56. Sympathy 

57. Generosity 

58. Criticism 

59. Jealousy 

60. Sensitiveness 

61. Capacity to forgive 

62. Ability to judge others 

XI. Reactions to Attitude Toward Self 
and Others 

63. Care of personal appearance 

64. Sociability. 

65. Social forwardness 

66. Demonstrative of emotion 

67. Tendency to " unburden " 

68. Demand for sympathy 

69. Inclination to self-pity 

70. Pleasure in success or enjoyment of others 

71. "Good loser" 

72. Given to witticisms, epigrams, etc. 

73. Tendency to emphasize the good side of the environment 

74. Evenness of nature (temper) 



270 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

XII. Position Toward Reality 

75. Capacity to take things as they are 

76. Acknowledgment of mistakes or transgressions 
yy. Practical 

78. Influenced in action by likes and dislikes 

79. Daydreaming 

XIII. Sexual Sphere 

80. Forwardness toward the opposite sex 

81. Freedom of discussing own relation to question, with 

intimates 

82. Sexual intercourse 

83. Flirtation, love affairs, " spooning/' etc. 

84. Sexual trends in reading, art, conversation 

85. Masturbation and allied practices, sexual imagination 

86. Negativistic reactions (prudishness) 

87. What degree of contentment with existing sexual adjust- 

ments 

88. Dominant partner in sexual relationships 

XIV. Balancing Factors 

(This conception of balancing factors is narrower than 
that of the last chapter in this volume. Cf. pp. 274-275.) 

89. How firm in religious beliefs 

90. Active in church work 

91. Intense interest or fads other than already dealt with 

92. Expressions of ideals 

93. Their harmony with actual conduct 

94. How adequate a balance is the final result of these means 

There is little advantage in regarding such a series as 
a fixed quantity. Traits should be taken from or added 
to it according to the purposes it is to serve. It was 
arranged for studies in connection with the association 
experiment, and to give a general survey of mental bal- 
ance. Other purposes, like those of vocational selection, 
would call for special modifications. We are not inter- 
ested in the same series of traits for a teacher as for an 
advertising expert. Valuable or disadvantageous traits 



EXPERIMENTAL APPROACHES 871 

to the advertising expert would not have the same signifi- 
cance for the teacher. 

The logical purpose of experimental work in the direc- 
tions discussed is to provide wholly objective bases for 
judgment of a person's mental equipment, balance, and fit- 
ness for certain kinds of work. The closest approach to 
this end has been made in the measures of intelligence, 
with their " year " and " point ''scales. But the intelli- 
gence scales are not, as their authors caution us, auto- 
matic machines with which one performs certain opera- 
tions and receives a statement of mental age. The 
methods of experimental psychology are colors and 
brushes with which only the good artist paints a good pic- 
ture. An inferior picture is less likely to result from bad 
colors and brushes than from the artist's lack of skill. 
Many can mix colors well enough; it takes the artist to 
apply their mixture with his brains. With all the work of 
the association test, how little was seen of its important 
meanings before the genius of Jung threw them on the 
canvas! Cattell, Courtis, Healy, Hollingworth, Jung, 
Scott, Strong, Terman, Thorndike, Woolley, Yerkes and 
their fellows all do their utmost to improve the paints and 
brushes by which they and their fellows can paint the 
thing as they see it more like what it is. But the beginner 
must understand as well, that it is not upon the tubes and 
brushes of experiments alone that success depends, but 
also on abilities partly native, partly of experience, which 
are not to be formulated and not wholly conscious. " I 
lent you my fiddle, but not my fiddlestick," said Walton 
to his less expert fellow angler. The devising of psycho- 
logical methods is a science ; but their use is, and may al- 
ways remain, an art. They give us more or less of the 
story, which is not to be completed from the laboratory 



272 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

nor from books. It comes from those flowerings of the 
unconscious that we call intuition. Art is the uncon- 
scious of science. 

These considerations apply to simpler mental measure- 
ments like the intelligence scales; they apply much more 
to the experiments of vocational bearing, including the 
" relative position " and " association " methods. Ex- 
periments of this type, with standardized observations of 
non-experimental behavior, are the chief reliance for deal- 
ing with those questions of " temperamental " fitness 
whose import increases, one might say, as the square of 
a man's rise in the outer world. Better reasons can now 
be given for regarding a boy John as defective, than for 
saying that James will do best as a teacher, lawyer, or 
business man. Diagnosis of the lower and more uni- 
versally necessary mental traits has for the moment out- 
stripped that of the higher and more complicated voca- 
tional aptitudes. But to these belongs a richer future, 
in which applied science of mind orders the Utopia with 
a place for every man, and every man in his place. 



CHAPTER VIII 

BALANCING FACTORS 

One of the important parts of a steam or gasoline 
engine is a flywheel, whose purpose is to absorb energy 
transmitted from the cylinder, and keep the machine 
moving at the most favorable rate. Were it not there, 
the machine would race and tear itself to pieces. If it 
is too light, it will not absorb the energy properly. The 
machine will still run too fast, and there will be exces- 
sive vibration, which is waste of energy. In some gaso- 
line motors, the cylinders themselves are made to re- 
volve, and serve also the purpose of a flywheel. In the 
electric motor, which we may accept as our symbol of 
vital activity, the purpose of the flywheel is similarly 
supplied by the weight and resistance of the revolving 
armature. The weight of the flywheel and armature 
makes them " balancing " factors in the operation of the 
machines. In a timepiece, this mechanism is called the 
" balance wheel. " 

In order that a mental mechanism may operate prop- 
erly it also must be rightly " balanced." An electric 
motor is not properly balanced if its resistance is so high 
that it will not take care of the current it needs for best 
speed; the analogy would be a too heavy flywheel on 
a steam engine. It will not " race " but rather refuse to 
run, and the energy of the current will be wasted in 

heat. Let the operation of such a machine represent the 
19 273 



Ttk MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

performance of some vital task, of the love-life, for ex- 
ample. There is available a certain amount of energy 
for its operation. The external conditions to which this 
adaptation is to be made, are represented by the motor 
itself. " Perfect marriage " is literally with a partner 
whom one can love as far as desire extends. Figura- 
tively it is the running of a motor whose resistance is not 
too high to take all the current available for it, nor yet 
so low that it takes more current than the dynamo is pre- 
pared to furnish, so that passion " burns out " at once. 
Now suppose that one partner is disappointed or dissatis- 
fied in the other. Then there is too much resistance be- 
tween them for the current of the love-life to be prop- 
erly taken up in the marriage. Waste of energy, if 
not damage, results unless this superfluous energy is in 
some other way taken care of or " balanced." A woman 
may find such a balancing factor in religion. Mental 
adaptation is given in a proper balance between vital 
energy and the mechanisms at hand to take it up. In a 
narrower sense than here used, " balancing factors " has 
been a name for those mental operations which take up 
vital energy not spent in the service of the fundamental 
trends. In that sense, normal marriage would not be 
conceived as a balancing factor. But if one is unhappily 
married, and manages to compensate for that unhappiness 
by interest in religion, then religion would meet the idea 
of a balancing factor, in restoring the balance of life by 
taking up energy which the love-life proper has failed to 
absorb. Our conception is that all trends, fundamental 
and otherwise, " balance " the output of vital energy, and 
are thus balancing factors. 

Picture John's mental organism as a factory in which 
vital energy, as if it were electric current, is being ex- 



BALANCING FACTORS £75 

pended for mental trends, as if it were operating electric 
motors. It is their function to take up and use all the 
energy which the power plant supplies. When they do 
this John's mental organism is well adjusted. These 
motors are numberless, and of many different kinds. In 
the foreground is perhaps the largest of them all, and the 
most continually in operation; it represents the love-life. 
If it were absent, probably all the other machines one 
might install would hardly suffice to make good use of the 
energy thus left free. As John is much interested in 
mathematics (by teaching of which he supports himself 
and family), a large motor takes care of this scientific 
trend. He is also an ardent fisherman, and for some 
weeks in the year, the scientific motor is shut down, 
while the piscatorial one takes the energy that went to 
operate it. If it were unavailable, vacations would be 
dreary wastes. His minor interest in politics would not 
balance it, for that motor will not take much current. 
Similarly all his activities are like machines that require 
more or less current for their operation according to 
their importance for his mental poise. If one refuses to 
work, he can to some degree balance the free energy by 
turning it into another. As was pointed out in Chapter 
II, it can be turned to a useful or a wasteful trend. 
Trends consistent with fundamental strivings are useful, 
others wasteful. John's fishing is useful, because it im- 
proves his health, and makes him better able to work. 
An alcoholic trend would be wasteful, as inconsistent with 
the functions of a father and provider. 

But no motor will run long upon current alone. If it 
is not supplied with oil, it will heat and stop. In life, 
the lubricating function of money to the social machinery 
is well known. It plays an equally essential part in the 



276 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

smootn operation of one's mental trends. As long as 
a motor will run without oil, so long can one live on love 
without paying bills. John's fishing trend could not op- 
erate without the lubrication of traveling expenses. A 
most necessary piece of machinery therefore, is that 
which supplies the pecuniary lubrication needed for the 
trends that are to operate. In the case of John, who 
teaches mathematics for a living, it is that mental 
mechanism which supplies pecuniary lubrication to the 
trends of his love-life, to his fondness for sport, and to 
his interest in politics. Not one of these could run with- 
out it, and if there is not enough to supply all, the less 
essential ones are shut down. Jewels and foreign travel 
are far greater oil-eaters than tennis or the classics. A 
profound interest is apt to require more of it than a 
superficial one. 

Machinery may be over-oiled; we may observe those 
whose money is a burden rather than a source of happi- 
ness. If one's interests are narrow, with few and small 
trends to operate, and one does not understand how to 
install others, then the mental machinery may become 
over-oiled with money. A day laborer of sixty years or 
a dissolute spendthrift who inherited a million dollars 
might find himself in such a case; but the mathematician, 
John, should have no such difficulty. He would build 
a better house for his family, provide servants to give 
himself and his wife more time for their children or for 
cultural interests. If possible, they would rear a larger 
number of children, and provide them with the best com- 
panions and schooling to live usefully. He would take 
more attractive fishing trips, and assume a more conspicu- 
ous role in politics. Thus he could well and fully occupy 
his new fortune. His abundant energies would enable 



BALANCING FACTORS 277 

him to take care of the broader interests which such an 
access of wealth makes imperative to well balanced 
life. 

If he were unhappily married, he could provide greater 
isolation, perhaps separate establishments for himself 
and his wife. Cultivating independent interests then 
restores a measure of balance to their existence impossi- 
ble in their dependence on each other. 

To sum up these introductory remarks : mental adapta- 
tion is the balance of the supply of vital energy with its 
expenditure. Different trends require different amounts 
of energy for their operation, and are fitted to take care 
of different amounts of it. Lack of balance results from 
the direction of more, or less, energy to certain trends, 
than they are fitted to take care of. One way to restore 
the balance is to take away the superfluous energy and 
direct it to other trends, as when an unmarried or unhap- 
pily married woman interests herself in religion. An- 
other way to restore the balance would be to reconstruct 
the marital relationship so that this trend would take the 
amount of energy one would naturally bestow upon it. 
We shall meet these examples below in more detail. A 
narrower conception of balancing factors is represented 
in the first instance, where another trend takes up the 
excess of energy obstructed in its fundamental course. 
Money contributes essentially to the operation of all 
balancing factors, as oil to machinery. 

We cannot expect to maintain this discussion of mental 
processes upon the simple analogy of an electrical ma- 
chine. It has not represented the important fact that 
some kinds of balancing factors are consistent and some 
inconsistent with fundamental trends and with one an- 
other. If they are inconsistent, mental conflicts arise, 



278 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

and balance is disturbed no matter how their energy is 
distributed. Just as one does not mix incompatibles in 
a pharmaceutical prescription, so certain trends, in them- 
selves proper, do not operate well together. Thus fail- 
ure to mix requires discussion. 

In preceding chapters we described certain chief fea- 
tures of mental activity; dissociation, regression, affec- 
tive transference, symbolism. The treatment dealt more 
with their role in mental pathology than in healthily bal- 
anced adjustments. They have a more constructive part 
to play in this concluding chapter of our studies. 

The discussion can be made more practical if we begin 
by defining as precisely as possible the meaning of adapta- 
tion to life under the given conditions ; this aspect of the 
inquiry has not been followed far beyond the first chap- 
ter. We take as working hypotheses, first, that men 
achieve adaptation to life, in proportion to their happi- 
ness in it ; second, that happiness consists in the balanced 
expenditure of energy for the realization of desires; 
(Heaven was called by the Hindus Kamadhnk, the realm 
of the fulfillment of wishes). And third, that the under- 
lying motive in voluntary human conduct is the pursuit of 
a conscious happiness. 

It is also fair to suppose that, in the countless ages of 
its existence, humanity has come to "know what it 
wants," that is, the things in which one normally seeks 
happiness are the things which, if obtained, are best cal- 
culated to bring happiness. The first task is then to ex- 
amine the ways in which men seek happiness ; and second, 
the parts which different mental mechanisms play in the 
following of these ways. 

Certain simple and basal needs are to be eliminated 
from the discussion. Men deprived of air or water are 



BALANCING FACTORS 279 

very unhappy, but they are also very short-lived, and 
competition for meeting these needs does not form a 
regular part of the struggle for existence in the mass of 
humanity. 

There are two general classes into which men's striv- 
ings for happiness fall. They were symbolized in the 
parable of the good and faithful servants. They put 
their talents to external use, while another hid his in the 
earth. Each was satisfied with what he had done. In 
like manner do men put part of their energies to external 
use. They spend them on their families or on society. 
Another part of men's energies is spent for more per- 
sonal, egoistic satisfactions, like sense-pleasures, and fads 
of intellect or sport. All of us put some of our energies 
out at interest, and hide some part of them in the earth. 
The stuporous catatonic has them all hidden there. 

Below the human world the two great satisfactions 
of hunger and love are practically met in the organic 
possession of food and of the opposite sex. In civilized 
life our search for food, shelter and warmth is first for 
money with which to buy them. This search is expressed 
in the greatest variety of human ways to make a living. 
Sexual partners are no longer approached with cave-man 
directness, sometimes even not at all. The satisfactions 
normally obtained in them are sought through affective 
symbols or " sublimations " of them. 

In human strivings for happiness these two great trends 
of hunger and love are represented in every variety of 
" selfish " and " unselfish " aspect. We have met in 
masturbation with a most self-centered form of erotic 
trend. Satisfaction is far more often sought here than 
found. There are few instances in which a permanent 
and fairly successful adaptation on this level appears. 



280 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

The vast majority of individuals progress beyond it to 
the opposite sex. 

Jung regards the heterosexual trend as the chief force 
to free us from regression into the leading strings of 
childhood. Man may not leave father and mother ex- 
cept to cleave unto his wife. Only the first step in this 
direction is denoted in the free incidental relationships 
of prostitution. This must be considered to have a num- 
ber of grades, from a simple masturbation per vaginam, 
through increasing degrees of affection and personal re- 
sponse between its objects. Gradually organic satisfac- 
tions blend with mental ones, and the relationship there- 
with becomes more permanent and exclusive. A rela- 
tionship of this level is unquestionably sufficient, if not 
best suited to the love-life of some natures. In com- 
munities whose mores are set against such relationships, 
a compromise may be attempted in childless marriage. 

The prostitute type of adjustment does not long bal- 
ance the love-life of the normal individual. It becomes, 
if, indeed, it is not always, a regressive or shirking re- 
action to the adult love-life. " Many a young man," re- 
marks Campbell, " thinks it is the natural thing to indulge 
his sexual instinct with prostitutes and others, not 
realizing that in gratifying an instinct that is one part of 
his nature, he is proving false to ethical cravings which 
are just as essential and just as healthy a part of his 
nature." This, Jung considers, is the conflict that pro- 
duces the neurotic Don Juan. 

The frequency with which sexual intercourse is established 
by men before marriage is variously estimated from 50 to 
95 per cent. Loewenfeld quotes a table from Meirowsky, 
showing the ages of its establishment among a group of uni- 
versity students : 



BALANCING FACTORS 281 

Age 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 26 

Cases I 1 2 n 14 20 24 29 19 11 8 4 1 

This indicates 85 per cent. Data as to marriage among 
them are not quoted. The figure would probably be lower 
for a corresponding American group. 

Between the relationships of marriage and prostitution 
there is no personal boundary, and the social one is some- 
times hazy enough. 1 But for practical purposes there 
are present two distinctions between voluntarily childless 
marriage and a high-level prostitution. Marriage in- 
vests the relationship with a social sanction that has some 
advantages for the man and most important ones for the 
woman. On the other hand, it considerably impairs the 
personal independence of either partner, 2 and increases 
the sacrifices which must be made. The opinion pre- 
vails that no organic or intellectual companionship offsets 
the sacrifices of marriage, without the compensation of 
children. In our figurative terms, marriage alone does 
not take up the energy of a fully developed love-life ; its 
mechanism requires the additional " load " of children to 
run with proper balance. 

In the attitude toward the control of offspring, three 

1 Des Pfarrers Segen macht so viel 
Als springt man iiber'n Besenstiel 
Das sieht man bei besser'nLeuten, ha, 
Lacht hell die Ziehharmonika 
Und macht dazu widewik 
Die quak quak quak Musik. 

" Simplicissimus," (ca. 1905). 

2 This, on the other hand, is more marked for the man. It is only 
under such liberal institutions as prevail in America that marriage 
holds for the woman a marked sacrifice of this nature. Often it 
brings a greater independence. 

Weil bekanntlich manche Sachen 
Welche grosse Freude machen, 
Madchen nicht allein versteh'n 
Als da ist: ins Wirtshaus geh'n. 

(Busch.) 



282 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

stages are traceable. Among primitive peoples, Sumner 
remarks that abortion, like killing of the old, is the dic- 
tate of social expediency. As the struggle for existence 
becomes easier, more children can be cared for, and 
used in the tribe's work. One could spare the lives of 
the old, increasingly valuable for counsel. The growing 
value of children to the community raises a moral tabu 
against abortion, that in large measure persists among 
civilized peoples to our day. It is expressed in legisla- 
tion. " Where religious and other sanctions give ade- 
quate support to the family instincts," says McDougall, 
" no serious diminution of fertility occurs. It is for 
this reason that ancestor worship is so favorable to na- 
tional stability." Meanwhile the competition of civilized 
life becomes fiercer again, and it is more difficult to rear 
children under the standards imposed. Then the tabu 
breaks down, first among those to whom children are the 
most inconvenience, but preserved in superstition, or 
ignorance of how to escape it. 

There unquestionably exist childless marriages to which 
both parties are voluntary, and in which adequate com- 
pensation is found elsewhere for the loss of independence 
involved. Strong outside interests serve to decrease the 
dependence of husband and wife on each other, particu- 
larly if they a r e not interests possessed in common. 
Such balancing factors for a childless marriage are some- 
what more available for well-to-do persons than for those 
in moderate or straitened circumstances. Women stand 
in greater need of them than men, and the opening of 
various occupations to them is of special value in this 
direction. 

Erotic motives for marriage are easier to state than to 
weigh. In the man, the most important motive is the 



BALANCING FACTORS 283 

organic possession of a woman whom the nature of both 
or either prevents from being possessed in any other way. 
Desire for children does not alone suffice to concentrate 
affection upon a specific individual. " Eugenic " and 
" companionship " motives are usually to be considered as 
rationalizations. The same is true of the conventional 
reasons assigned as to why a woman attracts us (figure, 
eye color, hair, cleverness). With John or James of the 
first chapter, we must ask ourselves, why do these fea- 
tures attract us where they do not other men, and why 
do they not attract us in some other woman? We are 
keenly aware of the effects; but their causes lie in the 
unconscious. It is important to remember, that a part- 
ner may be sought, not in strictly sexual desire, but in re- 
gression, as a " mother"- or " father "-representative. 3 
This is the key to many infatuations where the love object 
is quite lacking in the accepted sexual attractiveness. 

In women, the desire for children has a larger share 
in the conscious motives for marriage. This seems asso- 
ciated with the fact that, in women, erotic pleasures are 
not usually so concentrated in the genital areas as in man. 
They are more diffused over the body generally. 
Sadger 4 observes that women of this, the more usual 
type, adapt themselves better to the care of children, 
since this presents special opportunities for the gratifica- 
tion of an extragenital hedonism (as in breast feeding). 
Maternal instinct is weaker in women whose desire, 
though strong, is concentrated about the genital areas. 
They often do not wish for children, or are less careful 
of them when born. 

3 Cf. " Mental Regression : Its Conception and Types," Psychiat. 
Bui. g (1916), esp. 457-467- 
*Jahrb. f. psa u. psp. Forsch., 3 (1912), 547. 



284 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

The organic attraction to specific partners, to the ex- 
clusion of others, is usually regarded as more pronounced 
in women than in men. As with them, the selection is 
not to be understood upon conscious grounds. " Be- 
havioristic " methods lend themselves better than normal 
introspection to studying motives governed by the un- 
conscious. Abraham has published a preliminary study 
of this character, concerning marriage among relatives. 5 
It is not that inbreeding produces inferior offspring, so 
much as that neuropathic individuals tend to inbreed. 
Such unions result through maldevelopment of the instinc- 
tive life. There is an early exaggerated attachment to 
the parents, which may be termed sexual in the sense that 
it is especially directed to the parent of the opposite sex. 
Jealousy of the loved parent is prominent, as are sexual 
reactions between brothers and sisters. This precocious 
eroticism operates to fix the affect upon the family cir- 
cle, so that with increasing age the proper developmental 
transference to persons outside of it does not take place. 
In consequence, such persons remain unmarried alto- 
gether, or do not get beyond an adaptation which, in 
words of August Hoch, is something " still within the 
sheltered realm of the home." According to Hirschfeld, 
men of homosexual tendencies are apt to make cousin- 
marriages. A small group of cases is distinguished by 
late marriage, to a niece, especially, in which the man is 
much under the domination of the wife. 

All these groups are characterized by what I would term 
the monogamic tendency. With most men the inclinations 
of puberty are not lasting, affection turning to many per- 
sons, one after the other. Often intimate attachments are 
formed, to be later dissolved. But with many members of 
such families as tend to inbreeding, the development is other- 

5 lahrb. f. psa. u. psp. Forsch., I (1909), 110-118. 



BALANCING FACTORS 285 

wise. They lack the polygamous tendency. They are not 
adapted to flirtation or rapid change of personal relation- 
ships. As it is difficult for them to break up the familial 
fixations of childhood, so it is in later years. If they once 
fall in love, this attachment tends to be lasting and final 
[one-girl man]. Even if inbreeding does not result, the 
breadth of choice is obviously much diminished. 

The wise virgin knows all this, and counts it to A 
no man's credit that she is " the only girl he ever / 
loved." 

Of course there are non-erotic motives for marriage, 
such as money, or through selection of partners by others. 
In all cases, the problem of happy marriage is simply the 
compensation for the loss of independence. Organic sat- 
isfactions alone are not to be depended on for this. They 
are usually and most effectively supplemented by children, 
sometimes also by wisely used wealth, or intellectual in- 
terests. 

The trend for propagation is the usual stabilizer of 
matrimony, whatever may be its role in bringing mar- 
riage about. Children and what they involve must be 
regarded as the most important factors in adaptation. 
It is generally apparent that with the continuity of the 
family secured, what the rest of life holds is of minor 
significance for human happiness. 

Such are the different reactions summed up in an or- 
dinary conception of erotic trends. They cover a wide 
range. Their operation in some form appears necessary 
to human adaptations. The next part of our inquiry 
deals with other important trends as consistent or not 
with these erotic adjustments. We can see, for example, 
that a trend of alcoholism is not consistent with a well 
developed love-life, while, on the other hand, it is an 
important adjuvant to prostitution. We justly speak 



286 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

most of the economic trend, which is coordinate with the 
love-life as a fundamental tendency in us. 

In general, the more self-centered the love-life is, the 
less involved is money or its equivalent in carrying it on. 
If the love-life is to be satisfied in autoerotic sense, the 
economic factor disappears altogether. Such desire does 
not involve the person's following any trend of economic 
value, but as one's love-life advances in the scale of 
altruism, it becomes more and more involved with eco- 
nomic needs. The more developed an altruistic love-life, 
the greater the sum of its energy to be balanced upon the 
world outside the self. The complete living out of such 
love-life is represented in the family. This is the di- 
rection the normal love-life takes and the end it 
reaches. 

The relation of economic policy to erotic trends is two- 
fold. First, granted that marriage or some lower ad- 
justment gives adequate balance to the energy of the love- 
life itself, what economic policy is consistent with the 
proper adjustments thereto? Second, when (as in the 
unhappily married) the energy of the love-life is not 
balanced in the erotic trends, what economic policy is 
most consistent with other forms of balancing? 

To found a family and rear children requires some 
money; and the more money is available, the better these 
things can be done. While it retains this supreme bio- 
logical value, the pursuit of money must remain a funda- 
mental trend. The most important source of money is 
paid occupation. That occupation is the most consistent 
with the love-life, which helps to carry it on best. The 
most natural measure of this consistency is the amount 
of money the occupation brings. 

Financial return thus gains its dominant position in the 



BALANCING FACTORS 287 

value of every career. The increased fullness it makes 
possible to the love-life is by all odds its most important 
role in human happiness. Its part in a lower-level eroti- 
cism should be equally clear. That economic policy, 
therefore, is most consistent with altruistic love-life, 
whose material compensations are closest to the person's 
earning capacity. But by no means every one puts this 
motive first in the choice of a vocation. To understand 
the choice of vocation upon other motives, one should 
regularly look for a " compromise formation " of the 
altruistic motives of the love-life, with other and egoistic 
motives. 

Suppose for example, that John has a choice of two 
kinds of work, such as often comes to men in the profes- 
sions. The first has longer and not too regular hours, 
short vacations, rather mixed associates, narrow range 
of reputation, with income of some $10,000 a year. The 
second offers short, regular and agreeable hours, long 
vacations, an agreeable milieu, with a distinct access of 
social prestige. Its income is $4,000 a year. In these 
respects the first position is more consistent with altru- 
istic motives, its increased funds providing for a better 
family support. On the other hand, egoistic motives 
like love of prestige and ease, are more consistent with 
the second position, with its income sufficient for the com- 
forts. Its choice would represent compromise between 
familial and egoistic motives. In view of previous con- 
siderations (Ch. I, p. 12), these egoistic motives could 
easily fail to be seen in their actual character. They 
would be disguised by rationalizations, such as that the 
less-paid position was more useful to society, or more 
beneficial to health. 

The greater part of men's energies is ultimately spent 



288 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

on familial trends. But, while love-life of conventional 
pattern absorbs the greatest part of men's energies, in 
but few men does it wholly absorb them, and in some it 
absorbs them very incompletely indeed. Thus, there will 
be a certain amount of the love-life unabsorbed by the 
marriage relation, to be " balanced " by outside activity. 
Unhappy marriage results from a failure of its trends to 
balance. The marriage is then like the electric motor 
whose resistance is too high to take the proper current; 
it will operate inefficiently. 

As before mentioned, two solutions of such a difficulty 
are possible. One is to rewind the motor with less re- 
sistance, so that it will properly take the current — in 
other words, to remove the marital " resistances " be- 
tween husband and wife, so that their affection may 
properly be spent upon each other. The reason why this 
is easier said than done is because such resistances are 
affairs of the unconscious. Surface motives, like cruelty, 
drinking, neglect, are readily enough determined, but not 
effectually removable until we understand why drinking, 
why cruelty and why neglect ensue. Of these causes, 
the offending party is likely to be quite unconscious. 
The " burglars in the garden " case mentioned by Pfister 
(p. 145) was one in which it was possible, by bringing 
resistances to the conscious, to so " rewind " the mental 
mechanism that a proper balance of the love-life was 
established. 

Such are the solutions sought in psychoanalysis; they 
depend upon special personal influences rather than upon 
economic factors. If this solution cannot be had, an- 
other lies in affective transference of the energy unab- 
sorbed in the marriage. Pfister cites an observation of 
this kind that can hardly be unique. The solution is 



BALANCING FACTORS 289 

inconsistent with social order, but an apt illustration of 
the balancing process. 

A drunken maltreater of wife and children develops inti- 
macy with a widow and at once gives up these vicious prac- 
tices ; after a year his wife writes to this woman a fervent 
letter of thanks for his reformation ; she must on no account 
allow moral considerations to interfere with the continuance 
of the liaison. 

Little relation exists between economic factors and 
such a situation as this ; but the importance of wealth for 
its adjustment in a more socially consistent way should 
be clear to every one. In sum, the living out of economic 
trends is fully consistent with the love-life at all levels. 
In the absence of internal resistances to the love-life, it 
simply increases the fullness with which the love-life can 
be lived. In the presence of such resistances, as in the 
cases just cited, the pursuit of wealth can, by affective 
transfer, itself absorb a large share of the unbalanced 
energy. Its material gains open a vast range of healthier 
interests than those of alcohol or adultery. Some direct 
interference of economic trends with the love-life is said 
to occur, particularly in the engrossed pursuit of great 
wealth, or in cases of "mental over-oiling. ,, But for 
the great bulk of human adjustments, it is negligible. 

To enumerate the trends serving to compensate an 
unbalanced love-life, would be a long task, and involve 
repetition of matter considered in Chapters I and IV. 
All follow the general rule pointed out in Chapter IV, 
that the transferred energy becomes fixated on the bal- 
ancing factor (as an affective symbol) so that it is 
neither directed nor directible to the primary (in this 
case the erotic) trend. Aside from this, religion is the 

only balancing factor that shows important conflicts with 
20 



290 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

the love-life (e.g., celibate priesthood). But regressive 
fixations (Jung) block it considerably, as do social trends 
in ways still to be dealt with. We saw in Chapter II 
that the love-life is the most blocked of trends. It liber- 
ates more energy than other fundamental trends to be 
balanced elsewhere. Hence, the acute suggestion has 
been made that modern civilization has itself developed 
as the balancing factor of comparative sexual suppression 
prevalent among the peoples in whom it had its growth. 
The energy of the love-life earlier dissipated in primitive 
licentiousness was transferred to the work of civilization. 

We now proceed to a similar consideration of the 
economic trend ; its significance for human happiness ; its 
expression or operation; and its chief consistencies and 
inconsistencies with related trends. 

The economic trend has two phases ; the use of wealth 
and its pursuit. The possession of wealth contributes to 
human happiness somewhat as follows. The miser's con- 
templation of his wealth represents, like the talent hidden 
in the earth, a wholly selfish satisfaction. It is a sort 
of economic onanism. As few people find satisfaction 
in it, as in that of erotic type. Still, on the egoistic level, 
the possession of wealth gives security from the harsher 
struggle for existence. The love of it is a Sicherungs- 
vorkehr in Adler's sense. Wealth plays this role when it 
is unearned. As a class, those who inherit their wealth 
put it to more egoistic uses than those who have amassed 
it themselves. The same is seen in " marrying money," 
when the man who has done so gives up the contest for 
" adultified " (i.e., made adult) existence, and hides 
within his wealth as in a Mutterleib, for a life of self- 
indulgence. To marry money then operates as a regres- 
sion. 



BALANCING FACTORS 291 

At this level are the personalities whose satisfaction is 
in spending money rather than hoarding it, but spending 
it on themselves alone. This corresponds to the begin- 
nings of altruistic erotism, in liaisons of incidental and 
low degree. Advancing in the scale of altruism, the 
value of money, like that of love, depends more and more 
upon its expenditure for others. This takes place most 
effectively along familial lines as has amply been set 
forth. 

It is a truism that under the degree of affection which 
marriage tacitly assumes, the happy home depends on lit- 
tle more than the economic necessaries of life. 6 The 
part played in human happiness by expenditure of wealth 
is not so great or direct as that played by the love-life. 
That this is true of the acquisition of wealth is more 
doubtful. 

Biologically, the need for food is reckoned as more 
fundamental than the sexual trends. Among animals 
generally a greater amount of energy appears directed 
into the former channel. The love-life is dependent on a 
nourished organism; what Napoleon said of armies is 
quite true of lovers also. " Sine Cerere et Baccho." But 
eating, itself, is hardly a method of happiness among nor- 
mal men. Above certain minima of food value, cleanli- 
ness and palatability, the choiceness of the food makes 
(after childhood) a negligible difference to man's mental 
adaptation. No normally nourished man is so happy 
over a meal as a dog over a bone. The mightiest trend 

6 Zwar ich habe nur ein Zimmer 
Und das Zimmer ist sehr klein 
Doch es konnen darin zweie 
Ganz unbandig glucklich sein 

In dem einen, kleinen Zimmer. . . . 

(Bierbaum.) 



292 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

of animal life has fallen low. It would seem that the 
energy invested in the animal's quest for food has been 
transferred or " sublimated " into other kinds of human 
activity. The dog's happiness in the bone becomes the 
man's joy in his work. Such a process can indeed be 
traced below the human species. The cat's unbounded 
pleasure at the mouse it has caught is in the capture for 
the capture's sake, not in its food value. 

It has been usual to place much of this access of pleas- 
ure in work to the credit of erotic trends. But it can 
hardly be supposed that joy in work began with modern 
civilization. Its age is one with that of art. It is older 
than the sexual suppressions to which achievements of 
modern civilization have been credited. The energy bal- 
anced by the joy in work must be ascribed to a more 
primitive source. Probably this access of joy in effort 
balances the depreciation in the value of the nutritive 
trends for normal happiness. The affect that in the ani- 
mal world invests food makes the joy of work in man. 

The sentimental glamour that surrounds " work " is 
only less than that of love itself. The " pleasure at 
being a cause " is not dependent on the amount of money 
earned by the effect. Nor can we say where work 
for others stops and work for work's sake begins. 
Thus the relation of work to a strictly " economic " trend 
is ill-defined. The main reasons for considering it as 
such are the genetic ones above mentioned. 

Work presents the same gradations of egoism and al- 
truism as do the love-life and the use of money. Scho- 
lastic pursuits furnish the more purely egoistic satisfac- 
tions to be obtained from work. The altruism of pure 
science is more remote than that of applied science or 
technology. More direct service still is performed by 



BALANCING FACTORS 293 

the physician, the merchant, the transportation officer. 
As pointed out in Chapter I, (p. 21), no objective dif- 
ference in the value of these pursuits for happiness can 
be discovered. Each is capable of properly balancing 
the work-life in different types of personality. 

It is well said that the world pays extravagantly for its 
luxuries, liberally for its amusements, grudgingly for its 
necessities, and parsimoniously for its spiritual ministra- 
tions. Thus a relation, that underlies supply and de- 
mand, exists between kind of work and material return. 
Balancing material commands the greater rewards. It 
would seem that, in civilized life, the fundamental trends 
are met in such a way as to leave much unbalanced energy. 
The food trend is met simply and the love-life incom- 
pletely. Hence the characteristic demand of civilized 
life for balancing material in literature, art, travel, sport, 
etc. Sidelight on the place of religion comes in an ob- 
servation that the sales of the Bible have inverse ratio to 
business in general. In other words, the Bible increases 
its sales when people have less money to spend. Re- 
ligion is sought when other helpers fail and comforts 
flee, but other balancing material is preferred while pur- 
chasing power remains, 

The economic trend in its primary definition — ac- 
cumulation of wealth to the limit of ability — was seen 
to be most consistent with the love-life. That is a prob- 
lem of vocational guidance. Human nature harbors 
other trends, however, that are inconsistent with the 
economic trend. Regressive tendencies, in the form of 
asceticism, oppose the economic equally with the love- 
life. In fasting usages, this is applied directly to food. 
A further trend is directed against money by rationaliz- 
ing poverty as a virtue. Sumner points out the further 



294 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

inconsistency of this rationalization, since it makes the 
individual dependent on the less virtuous who have money 
to give. In modern life, the trends of work for work's 
sake are often inconsistent with the economic function of 
work. Egoistic varieties of work are more liable to this 
inconsistency with the fundamental economic trend. 

Social trends are shown in organisms whose normal 
actions depend on the presence of others of their species. 
Common ants and honeybees are called social animals, 
because their normal nest-building, securing of food-sup- 
ply and propagation, depend on the cooperation of many 
bees and ants. It is noted that powerful and predaceous 
animals, like the tiger or hawk, are regularly solitary, 
while creatures of social habits are weaker. With a 
social habit, pronounced individual strength is not so 
necessary to survival as with a solitary one. 

Stauffacher. Verbunden werden auch die Schwache 

machtig. 
Tell. Der Starke ist am machtigsten allein. 

No ethical comparison is required between the indi- 
vidual giant and the well adjusted member of the group 
strong in union. Man has evolved as a highly social 
being. The fundamental nature of man's adaptations, 
depending on mental rather than physical fitness, plays 
directly into the hands of social trends. Organized 
groups intelligently directed are far stronger than the 
sum of their individual powers, from battle to the foot- 
ball field. The social trend of man finds its sanction, like 
private property, in its utility. 

The trend for food cannot fill man's life, because if it 
did, he would not seek to propagate himself. The added 
sexual trend cannot fill it, because if it did, he would lack 



BALANCING FACTORS 295 

the social trends decisively useful in his survival and de- 
velopment. It is biologically fitting that man should re- 
quire for mental balance, not only economic and erotic 
satisfactions, but others dependent on social relations 
with his fellow men. Interdependence is the price of 
cooperation which gives the highest force in the contest 
with nature, as well as against aggression by the for- 
eigner. 

The social trend, or herd instinct as it has also been 
called, is the tendency of the individual to act in con- 
formity with the mores of his group. That definition 
must be vague, because mores differ so greatly according 
to age and place. "If two planets were joined in one," 
Sumner puts it forcibly, " their inhabitants could not 
differ more widely as to what things are best worth seek- 
ing, or what ways most expedient for well living." The 
love-life, on the other hand, is practically confined to ob- 
jects of opposite sex, and family; the objects of the 
work-life are money or joy in work. 

As we see it now, the value of social trends for human 
happiness is of three kinds; to be summed up in broad 
conceptions of the words patriotism, social amusement 
and social service. Under the first head are included a 
man's feelings and reactions toward his political group. 
Under everyday conditions this phase of the social trend 
has no very positive value for happiness. People then 
keep the law as they eat; not because it is joyous, but be- 
cause it is expedient to do so, and we can expect to find 
no great balancing function in this phase of the social 
trend. It is no trend to absorb much of our free energy. 
It corresponds more to the eating which obviates un- 
pleasantness, than to the love that brings joy. 

On the other hand, it is most apparent that if a vigor- 



296 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

ous state is threatened, its members readily respond by 
collective action to defend it. In more highly organized 
states, there is a group sanction which systematically 
allots such service to those most fitted to perform it. 
Such service is compulsory in the same sense that mar- 
riage is compulsory; it is the best response to an in- 
evitable organic need. Then, when a vigorous state is 
threatened, the capacity of the social trend rises without 
limit to take up energy going normally to erotic or eco- 
nomic trends. Their energy is diverted to patriotism, 
as a short circuit takes the power from a street-car 
system. 

A sanguinary metaphor may be taken from the geological 
descriptions of how a stream " pirates " the waters of 
another stream, or " decapitates " it. If two streams run 
down opposite sides of a mountain pass, the one which 
flows over the less resistant soil will deepen its valley faster 
and " decapitate " the other stream by capturing its head- 
waters. As the water follows the stream bed of less 
resistance 7 and the electric current turns from the high re- 
sistant circuit to the low one, so does a social trend demon- 
strate its least resistance in the piracy or decapitation of 

7 If an obstructed instinctive life is compensated through an af- 
fective symbol (like the pet dog of Chapter IV), it is well known 
that ultimately the affective symbol absorbs the energy so com- 
pletely that little or none is available for the fundamental trend when 
the occasion comes to exercise it. The concept of decapitation repre- 
sents this as follows: 

Suppose that social convention and other circumstances interpose 
an effective barrier to the outlet of the love-life, as for many people 
they do. Then, as water behind a dam, the energy rises until it 
reaches another outlet, as in love for the typical pet dog. Still ob- 
structed at the primary outlet, it begins to flow out through this 
secondary channel. In doing so, it continually deepens that channel, 
as a brook flowing through its ravine; while the primary channel, 
which is dry, remains at its former^ level. In time, this secondary 
channel is so deepened that its outlet is below the level of the original 
channel, which has remained dry. Then, even if the obstruction 
is taken away, there will be no outflow through the primary channel. 
It has been decapitated, its energy pirated, by the less obstructed 
trend. The capacity for living out the more fundamental tendency 
is lost. 



BALANCING FACTORS 297 

erotic and economic trends. While John is in pursuit of 
familial, professional and recreational interests, his people 
are plunged into war. Then if social trends in the nation are 
superficial, he will not change his conduct, reflecting that to 
offer his services is simply to sacrifice himself and family for 
some shirker to usurp his hard won place in life. The 
familial and economic energies will not be pirated. If, how- 
ever, the nation is well organized through strong social trends 
in its members, economic and familial trends no longer domi- 
nate his conduct. Under the social sanction of universal 
service, he and his fellows present themselves to render such 
aid to the state as it requires, to the exclusion of economic 
and familial pursuits. 

The concept of " decapitation " of trends may be repre- 
sented more schematically in this way. The sum of vital 
energy is like a reservoir of water, whose supply is con- 
tinually pumped into it from below. It has openings at 
different levels to release the energy for more fundamental 
or more superficial trends. John's need for food is at a 
low level, but takes a very small part of the energy stored in 
the reservoir. The outlet of autoerotic trends is pretty 
well plugged now, and instead, the water rises till it meets 
the great sluice gate of familial trends. Nor does this carry 
away all his abundant energy, but the water rises until the 
inflow of energy is finally balanced by the minor outlets of 
fishing, political and similar interests. Now comes the war, 
flinging open the gate of social trends. It may be so small 
and high that no water reaches it. But if, as we abundantly 
see it, it is great and deep, the interests of fishing, politics, 
mathematics, even family, are quickly decapitated of their 
energy. 

The most primitive trends of self-preservation are 
robbed of their energy to operate. One has but to think 
of the self-immolation of Europe, and the lesser but more 
individually voluntary sacrifices of our civil war. Such 
a diversion of energy from individual to social trends 
takes place at the command of rulers in much the same 
way as Niagara is diverted to electric turbines at the com- 
mand of the engineer. He could not command Niagara 



298 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

without gravity. Without instinctive willingness to 
sacrifice self for group, there could be no ruler to com- 
mand war or peace. 

The social trend here runs counter to practically all 
the trends serving erotic or economic instincts. It re- 
mains consistent with the instinct of pugnacity; though 
some think that modern war conditions, in which there is 
less contact between enemies, make this direct access of 
energy to the social trend unimportant. Joy in death 
for group appears as the summit of altruism (" Greater 
love," etc.), upon the antipodes of egoistic tendencies. 
Between this extreme of altruism and the extreme of in- 
troverted egoism (as that of the catatonic stupor), there 
are many grades in the balance of altruism and egoism 
in personalities. There are people outside institution 
doors who exist but for creature comforts, incapable of 
deep relationships with fellow men. Their mental bal- 
ance is struck at a low-level autoerotism, but they are not 
necessarily unhappy in it. An epicure in pleasures of 
sense or intellect may, in their pursuit, produce economic 
or artistic creations that the world values ; and represent 
to the world an autoerotism of higher level. Marriage 
and other social relationships that limit independence are 
themselves inconsistent with the strictly " self "-realiza- 
tion of autoerotic natures. In all sexual relationship 
there is some limitation of egoistic trends, which becomes 
pronounced when a family rears many children. Among 
insects this may go so far as the parents' dying to create 
the offspring. Man does not normally do this, but he 
dies for the preservation of the group. Where he sacri- 
fices but part of his egoism for the family, he sacrifices 
his very existence for the group (and often the family's 
so far as he is concerned). When the Decalogue bids 



BALANCING FACTORS 299 

us not kill, steal, or commit adultery, it expresses social 
trends in useful restraint of individual ones. But in full 
force the social trend decapitates both of these, saying 
not only thou shalt kill, but thou shalt be killed, that thy 
neighbor may live more abundantly. 

As familial trends " decapitate " autoerotic, and balance 
economic, ones, so does the social trend at once balance 
and decapitate autoerotic, familial and economic trends. 
The joy of dying for group must be accepted as real. 
Its expressions cannot be set down to poetic hyperbole. 
It bears tokens, however, of a divided origin. Sentiment 
marks the sweetness of dying for one's country, though 
the effective service of one's country is not in dying, 
but in killing the enemy for it. Indeed, patriotic senti- 
ment is replete with the " death-wish " ; the hero regrets 
that he has but one life to give for his country, not that 
he has killed so few of its enemies. This is but another 
token that life is not to man the ultimately precious thing 
that other animals account it, but that there are strong 
forces in us making for its voluntary termination, which 
sometimes become so strong that they result in suicide. 
We may look upon the joy in death for group, therefore, 
as determined partly by an active social trend of service 
to the group, and partly by a regressive seeking to escape 
the task of life, to be " one with Cumberland forever," 
which tendencies reinforce each other against the indi- 
vidual will to live. The simple willingness to die for 
one's country is not a social trend, so much as a regres- 
sion that is rationalized in patriotic sentiment. 

The patriotism of non-combatants in war is reen forced 
neither by the instinct of pugnacity nor by the " death- 
wish." For them the task of living is simply increased 
in severity. Yet the social trend can balance these pri- 



300 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

vations also. A spirit of thankfulness is reported among 
the women of a combatant people that they live in a time 
of opportunity for such sacrifice. 

It is only in group-conflicts that social trends take on 
this supreme significance for the mass of men. In this 
respect the sentiment of patriotism is in a class by itself. 
The possibly regressive element in patriotism makes it 
noteworthy that the value for human happiness of service 
to the state is greatest precisely when the greatest re- 
nunciation is involved. Social trends may be so strong as 
to afford a general pride in service to the state. A 
European will conceive more readily than an American 
how an honest John might prefer a $4,000 state position, 
rather than one of $10,000 with a private organization. 
The ambition to serve the state may thus lead to incon- 
sistencies with individual trends, apart from the supreme 
tests of war. 

When unrequited service is systematically rendered to 
unrelated individuals, which is of such a character as is 
normally discharged among related individuals, this comes 
under a technical conception of " social service." It is 
not confined to humanity. It has been observed of breed- 
ing swallows, whose nests were destroyed in their absence, 
that after many hours' searching for them, they would 
fly into the nests of other birds, and attempt to feed the 
young, even though attacked by the actual parents. Thus 
does the principle of social service operate as a balancing 
factor in the animal world. The birds take thought for 
other nests because they have none of their own. On 
both human and animal levels this is an attempt of the 
mental organism to meet a lack of balance among the per- 
sonal instincts, by analogous actions toward foreign in- 
dividuals. 



BALANCING FACTORS 301 

Recreations, as such, do not hold a commanding place 
in the balance of human trends, but most of what they 
have is social. The normal attitude toward life has 
created the sayings that pleasure shared is pleasure 
doubled, and that happiness was born a twin. Social 
games predominate vastly over solitary ones. The lat- 
ter do not even maintain themselves as such, but develop 
" social solitaires." Who prefers to go alone to the play, 
the concert or the golf-links? The social trend also 
lends sanction to a form of satisfaction otherwise con- 
demned ; nothing like the obloquy attaches to drinking in 
company that attaches to drinking alone. Persons hav- 
ing fads in common (although these be not in themselves 
social, e.g., an interest in natural history) form societies 
to pursue them together. Clubs are formed that permit 
closer relations with selected companions. While such 
interests need not be very deep, their wide diffusion makes 
it well to mention them among the contributions of social 
trends to mental adaptation. 

Except for the instance of war, the social trend is in 
the main consistent with economic and familial trends, 
and reenforces more than inhibits them. To the social 
cooperation of men the race owes such economic conquest 
over nature as it has achieved. Greater and more varied 
economic satisfactions are possible to the average family 
through its relations to the community than would be 
possible to it alone. Elementary conveniences like lights, 
sewage, transportation systems and social amusements 
establish this. Economic and social trends play into each 
other's hands. The greater the production and diffusion 
of economic necessities, the less fierce does the competi- 
tion for them become, and the more room there is for the 
development of humanitarian and social sentiments 



302 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

toward one's fellow men. 8 Conversely, humanitarian 
feelings draw men together for common ends, as is 
requisite for great and lasting control over nature. As 
economic evolution proceeds, it becomes more profitable 
to the strong that the weak should have more freedom; 
because then they cooperate more effectively for the sub- 
jugation of nature. Thus slavery and serfdom give 
place to freer social institutions. 

Allusion has just been made (p. 296) to the counter- 
balancing of erotic and familial trends by social ones. 
Clearly a general trend toward social relationships in- 
creases the possible choices which can be made, and is 
thus consistent with the fullest love-life. It introduces 
rivalries which may be disturbing to the individual while 
helping to select the race. Social usages also restrict the 
choice of partners in various ways. They enjoin celi- 
bacy for certain classes ; they impose now a sanction, now 
a tabu upon promiscuous relationships ; they select classes 
(totemism) among which one may or may not choose 
partners. Most of these have other-worldly rationaliza- 
tions which are presented upon religious grounds. 

Where the family is the social unit, the fabric of society 
depends on the stability of sexual relationships. If ac- 
tions inconsistent with such stability are not prevented 
by the mores, the society degenerates. Society has now 
to deal with a lack of balance between erotic and economic 
trends. The period at which it is economically possible 
to found the family is pushed far beyond the period of 
erotic maturity. Until this balance is restored, rigid sex 
mores are not to be looked for among civilized peo- 
ples. 

The foregoing material leaves us with these chief con- 

8 Sumner, " Folkways/' 39. 



BALANCING FACTORS 303 

siderations. Happiness is the conscious phase of mental 
adaptation. Mental adaptation consists in a balance be- 
tween the energy the organism has to spend, and the out- 
lets for expending it. The outlets useful for this pur- 
pose are balancing factors. We paralleled these to the 
balancing function of the flywheel in a steam engine, or 
the weight of the armature in an electric motor. Com- 
paring vital energy to the electric current, we represented 
different trends of conduct as different electric motors, 
which could take up more or less of the energy to be 
spent. Mental adaptation corresponds to the efficient 
taking up of vital energy in these trends. Money plays 
the same role in facilitating their operation as oil does in 
that of machines. 

Coming to the topical consideration of different human 
trends, we examined some of the chief ways in which 
men seek happiness. We saw that it might be sought in 
selfish, egoistic ways, or in unselfish, altruistic ways; but 
that it is more frequently found in the latter. We dis- 
cussed the bearing of this upon the love-life, which reaches 
its fullest development in maintenance of family. In 
this, and in subsequent discussion of economic and social 
trends, we followed the plan of describing what sort of 
reaction the trends involved, what their respective value 
for human happiness appears to be, and the ways in which 
they are consistent or inconsistent with other important 
trends of personality. We observed the mutual con- 
sistency of the fully developed erotic and economic trends. 
An ascetic negation of economic values is inconsistent 
with the love-life. 

Turning to the economic trend, we observed egoistic 
and altruistic methods of happiness in the expenditure 
of wealth; how the egoistic shades into the altruistic. 



504 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Its direct value for happiness is not often great, though 
we saw that it is important in opening up other methods 
of satisfaction. The pursuit of wealth on the other hand, 
carrying with it the " joy in work," has a much larger 
value for happiness. The suggestion was made that, as 
we look upon modern civilization as the product of energy 
derived from sexual inhibitions, so may the joy in work 
represent an affective transfer from a more animal joy 
in food, that is, be a " sublimation " of nutritive trends. 
The chief inconsistencies with economic trends are those 
of asceticism. 

The biological significance of social trends was briefly 
pointed out. Social trends assume their greatest impor- 
tance for mental adaptation when the social group is 
threatened in war. Then familial and economic trends, 
even elementary trends for self-preservation, are " de- 
capitated " of their energy; and the individual gives his 
life for the group under the trend of patriotism. But 
this trend is probably reen forced by a regressive, " death- 
wish " admixture. The value for happiness of service to 
the state, as such, varies among different groups, being 
a measure of their social solidarity. The technical 
" social service," not rendered to the state but to indi- 
viduals, is not a fundamental phase of the social trend, 
but has value for happiness simply in balancing obstructed 
personal trends. 

The minor balancing values in recreations are domi- 
nated by social trends. Social trends are essentially con- 
sistent with economic trends in that they permit greater 
accumulations of wealth and greater satisfactions in its 
use. They are also consistent with erotic trends, in their 
widening of the range of selection. In special instances, 
like the totem or sacerdotal celibacy, they obstruct a 



BALANCING FACTORS 305 

natural selection. Owing to the lack of balance in civ- 
ilized life between economic and sexual trends, the social 
sanctions of erotic relationships cannot be of the most 
rigid character. 

We proceed now from the point that mental adapta- 
tion is given in balanced reactions, and by our survey of 
how different trends contribute to the balance of reac- 
tions, to the final considerations of what controllable 
factors in the environment — educational policies, in 
other words — are the most consistent with the purpose 
of adaptation and the attainment of happiness. 

This survey of mental adjustments began with a com- 
parison of vital energy to electrical force. Faulty mental 
adjustments were compared to misapplications and short- 
circuitings of current. We may briefly develop a final 
element in this analogy. There are many kinds of elec- 
tric current, high and low voltage, direct and alternating 
of different frequencies. When the dynamo produces 
electricity, it produces the sort for which the generator 
is wound. But this kind of current may well be unsuited 
to every kind of work the current is to do. The best 
kind of current to send a long distance is not the best 
adapted to do work after it gets there. Street-car current 
is not the best for fan motor purposes. For this reason, 
the current that comes from the generator is passed 
through special instruments, known as transformers, each 
one of which changes the original current passing through 
it, into whatever kind the consumer needs for his par- 
ticular work. Only by passing through the proper trans- 
former system is the current able to perform the service, 
on the payment for which the plant depends for its 
existence. 

The same is true of the energy of life. We come to 
21 



306 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

know it only after it has passed through certain trans- 
formers, and performs the work of our existence. Not 
only must we have sufficient energy to do the work of our 
lives, but, like the lighting and street-car companies, we 
must have the power in the form in which we can make 
best use of it. Take two men of equal endowment, and 
train one as a lawyer, the other as a physician. The one 
has transformers to convert his energy into legal practice, 
the other into the healing art. But the motor of the 
healing art will not run on legal current. Neither could 
do the work of the other, any more than ordinary fan 
motor or lighting current operates street-cars. A third 
man, without training, can do only the simplest manual 
tasks. He has no finely adjusted transformers, and has 
but the crudest sort of energy to dispose of. 

A man fitted for life is then like an electric plant not 
only well built, but equipped with such transformers as 
will give current to run the motors he can use. This is 
the right object of all that control of experience which 
we term education. Education is, or ought to be, a 
control of experience that better fits the personality for 
the duties and privileges of life. 

This is founded on mastery of one's love-life and eco- 
nomic existence. There is no mastery of fate or cap- 
taincy of soul without them. They are its concrete 
tokens. Normal maturing or " progression " means the 
achievement of these in greater or less degree. Opposed 
to such achievements are the regressional trends of auto- 
erotism, asceticism, and the like. The concrete objects of 
regressional trends are the parents. These attachments 
are not innate. " Kinship is purely a matter of fact and 
history,'' writes Sumner. " There is no ' natural af- 
fection.' There is habit and familiarity, and the example 



BALANCING FACTORS 307 

and exhortation of the parents may inculcate notions of 
duty." On the other hand, these attachments are greatly 
strengthened by the long and impressionable period dur- 
ing which they operate. Mental growth, or progression, 
involves the breaking up of the infantile attachments. 
The right task of education is to insure this in every 
possible way. 

If Holmes remarked that a boy's education should be- 
gin with his grandfather, Freud has said, in effect, that it 
is ended with his first trousers. He expresses a proper 
surprise that, for the formation of character, we lay much 
stress on heredity and the education of later years, and 
relatively little on what happens in the infantile years. 
In that respect, the child is also the father of the man, 
more intimately than the progenitor indeed. There is a 
growing conviction that the mental events of infantile 
life are of far more significance for adult personality 
than we have supposed, and that they deserve far more 
care than we have been giving them in proportion to the 
later years. 

Thus an important, if negative, part of educational 
policy is the avoidance by elders of such conduct as tends 
to promote " regressive fixations " in the child. Re- 
gressive fixations are transformers whose current is of 
little value in adult life. In illustration of such conduct, 
Pfister warns strongly against excessive organic intima- 
cies between parent and infant. It is, of course, the 
mother who is naturally concerned here. It is generally 
bad for the child to be taken into bed with the parent. 
To have the child sleep in the same room with parents is 
especially unwise after the first year; observation of the 
parents' erotic reactions has a very deleterious effect for 
them at this time. Even ordinary caresses in the pres- 



308 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

ence of the child are often to be strictly avoided. 9 The 
child is made an " erotic plaything." As this is uni- 
formly bad for the child, it cannot be regarded as an 
effective token of mother love. Nor does it arise in this 
way, but rather to supply the balance of an incomplete 
love-life toward the husband. 

A corresponding result is reached if the father exag- 
gerates his protective role. Ferenczi 10 reports this in two 
women patients whose fathers were also their teachers. 
A man's organic over-tendernesses toward relatives or 
children, more especially daughters, are also a natural 
balancing factor of incompleteness in marital life, 
but inconsistent with the mental welfare of their ob- 
jects. 

The general result is to fix the child's associations of 
important organic and other satisfactions with the pres- 
ence of the parents. This hampers the developmental 
transference of their affects to the objects outside the 
family to whom they will properly belong. 

We may look for clear examples of parental fixations 
among only children, as these are naturally quite subject 
to the influences that bring them about. We owe to 
Brill such a study of adjustments to life among only 
children. He reports observations ll of 400 such, 172 
men and 228 women, ranging from 18 to 68 years, mostly 
psychoneurotic patients. Their median age was 34, i.e., 
the same number younger and older. Only 93 had mar- 
ried; but the significance of this fact is limited by our 
ignorance of how early and frequent marriage is in 
psychoneurotics who are not only or favorite children. 

9 Pfister, D. psa. Met., 475. 

10 Jahrb. f. psa. u. psp. Forsch. 1 (1909), 449. 

11 Brill, " Psychanalysis " (1912), 253-266 



BALANCING FACTORS 309 

Some 36 per cent were characterized by aberrant erotic 
trends such as homosexuality, anesthesia, impotence, ex- 
hibitionism and the like. He considers that only chil- 
dren or favorite children markedly prevail in these 
classes. 

Besides these deficiencies in sexual adaptation, the re- 
gressive fixations bring about a lack of adaptability to 
competitors in life. The only child is especially asso- 
ciated with adults to the exclusion of children of his own 
age. This eliminates from his life the normal play- 
period through which, sharing the childish rivalries, quar- 
rels, triumphs and disappointments of his equals, he 
should pass naturally to the more serious rivalries of 
adult life. He becomes precocious in " book " knowl- 
edge which never has the test of application, and de- 
velops habits of deference to elders which he finds it very 
difficult to cast off when his adult competition with them 
begins. From being habitually over-indulged, great 
sensitiveness to slights develops; thus Brill mentions an 
only daughter who attempted suicide " because her best 
friend had received more attention than she at a social 
gathering." He draws a very pretty parallel between 
these traits of the individual spoiled child, and the in- 
ferior social adjustment long shown in " the only and 
favorite child of Jehovah, the Jewish race." 

In 1000 cases of repeated delinquency, Healy found 
119 cases in which the delinquent was an only child. 
This is slightly the largest group of single delinquents 
from all families in his table. Its interpretation is lim- 
ited until we know the general frequency in that social 
group of one child families compared to larger ones. As 
Healy indicates, it is questionable whether the conditions 
which are supposed to surround an only child make espe- 



310 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

daily for delinquency. They would not seem conducive 
to the more active type of offenses. 

Parental fixations possess a share of salutary proper- 
ties for the child. They make his satisfactions depend- 
ent on an outside object, i.e., the parents, and not on 
satisfactions from himself. It has been noted that the 
child has about him a number of sources for such gratifi- 
cations, which are often things indifferent, even repulsive 
to us in later life. Infantile thumbsucking is a primitive 
manifestation. They center largely about excretory 
functions. Some authorities see vestiges of them in such 
practices as picking the nose or biting the nails. The 
tenderness of parents plays a useful role in freeing the 
energy from these " autohedonic " paths of discharge, 
and transferring it, but not permanently, to themselves. 
Pfister therefore warns with equal earnestness against an 
opposite extreme of harshness in the parents : 12 

The child must learn to bring his love-life under external 
control. ... If the child is repulsed by the parents, . . . 
the child must again transfer from the mother the affects 
already associated with her through her functions of feeding 
and bodily care; and unless some outside carrier of this 
affect, such as a grandmother or a teacher, is available, the 
parental repulses result in introversion. We know that 
thereby the dangers of misanthropy, shut-in-ness, eccentricity 
and life- weariness are brought near ; moral development, the 
unfolding of personality and altruism are imperiled. 

The following words by Miss Tobin 13 of Chicago 
closely parallel Pfister's remarks. The different con- 
nection which suggests them adds to their pertinence. 

In all schools are found children who do not " fit in " with 
the regular work. They are unresponsive; cannot work in 

i 2 D. psa. Met., 462-463. 

13 Psychol. Clinic, 9 (1916), 266. 



BALANCING FACTORS 311 

groups ; are irritable or over-sensitive ; will not play, rather 
brood in corners; are hostile to society. Sometimes they 
show a tendency to damage things or torment animals or 
their companions. 

They are individualistic. Every command must be given 
separately to them. They will not listen unless directly 
addressed; and will not respond. The result is that either 
their undirected energy takes the form of mischief and 
they become incorrigible, or they shrink back into themselves 
and become apathetic, sitting in their places with no interest, 
but conscious of the indifference of their companions. 

We surely can appreciate Miss Tobin's concept of 
" undirected energy," and the antisocial outlets for its 
attempted balance. Whether the regressive and egoistic 
reactions so well described by her are the result of pa- 
rental fixations or of the more primitive autohedonic ones, 
the prophylactic lies in the normal play-life of the child. 
Science can add nothing to the social verdict that the best 
laboratory of mental adaptation is a family of brothers 
and sisters. He was a wise counsellor who advised the 
young man to marry a girl who had many such. 

Outside of this, the great counterweight of parental 
fixations is the school. Most considerations point to the 
wisdom of introducing it as early as possible, not so much 
for the sake of its formal discipline, as for its natural 
commingling of many children freed from parental pro- 
tection and restraints, on equal terms. In the kinder- 
garten age the inevitable, but still weak, parental or primi- 
tive autohedonic fixations quickly break down under the 
stress of normal rivalries, no less intense for being child- 
ish. In the school, more particularly the boarding school 
and the college, these rivalries are gradually changed into 
forms more resembling the actual struggle for existence. 

Before proceeding to these, two other points in parental 
relationship may be mentioned. We know that egoism is 



312 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

natural and healthy in the child, and that altruism comes 
with maturity. The mistake of forcing the growth of 
altruism is perhaps not so frequent as unfortunate when 
it occurs. Such, for example, would be the attempt to 
train the child to give a share — sometimes ridiculously 
large — of its pocket money to some charity. No normal 
child does this ungrudgingly. It would be no more ab- 
surd to have the child marry, and expect it to lead a 
normal love-life. The will to these sacrifices is a part 
of adult trends. Two results are possible. One is a 
form of " over-compensation " (Ch. IV). The child 
grows up to be stingy, as the child tantalized with un- 
shared delicacies becomes a selfish gourmet^ or the once 
oppressed tenant becomes a harsh landlord. Otherwise 
an exaggerated altruism develops that well-nigh cripples 
him for competition. In view of children's imitative 
tendencies, it is an additional precaution, for parents not 
to obtrude their benevolences upon their children's notice. 
The essential point is that such altruistic motives should 
not be cultivated in children, as involve any notable sacri- 
fices on their own side. It perverts their normal instinc- 
tive life to do so. 

A normal self-assurance is generally conceded to be the 
most important conscious phase of one's mental endow- 
ment. Compared to real incompetence, the feeling of 
inferiority is about as difficult a barrier to achievement, 
and a far more difficult one to happiness. An easy way 
to breed it in the child is to prevent him from sharing in 
common sorts of play because of dangers which they 
may have. The child wants to do what he sees his fel- 
lows enjoying, and at once feels himself " different " if 
parental authority interferes. The normal play-life of 
children, from skating to football, is bound up with some 



BALANCING FACTORS 313 

amount of bodily risk. The child may be prevented from 
sharing them, by direct prohibition or especially by lurid 
pictures of the dangers they involve. Then the child, 
observing that normal children can do these things while 
he may not, having them pointed out as fearful to him 
while they are clearly not so to his fellows, can scarcely 
react otherwise than by feeling inferior to his fellows in 
their natural activities. Sissies are made, not born ; and 
if they are not to be made, the child must be allowed, if 
not encouraged, to take the normal risks of childhood 
play. The custom is happily waning of letting young 
children find enjoyment in the wanton use of explosives. 
Yet so common sense a deprivation as this would work 
harm if not balanced in the pursuit of a similar but more 
productive sport, as the use of firearms. This is a normal 
ambition in every boy, not to be thwarted, but rather used 
to inculcate steadiness of " nerve/' mechanical deftness 
and the care of valued objects. 14 A child's enthusiasm 
for bodily skills is also, in the hands of an honest parent, 
a deadly weapon against pernicious habits, from too fast 
eating to masturbation. 

The main thing is the child's willing competition in the 
natural strivings of his fellows. If he shies at these, 
it means a persistence of parental or primitive autohe- 
donic fixations. To shame the child is simply to confirm 
an existing sense of inadequacy. " Now swim, ye little 
divil, swim ! " cried a big Irishman on flinging a seven 
year-old into deep water after less coercive and less suc- 
cessful trials — and he swam. The adult situation of 
" root, hog, or die " is quite reproducible for childhood, 
except that we do not make him root for the same things. 
A wholesome forcing that can always be effective short 

14 " Der Soldat soil sein Gewehr schatzen wie seine Braut ! " 



3M MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

of brutality presents the wisest management of such 
cases. It is not the child we are breaking, but regression. 
We are simply reen forcing the progressional, healthy 
trends necessarily present in the child, against the tend- 
encies that compass his undoing. The greater satisfac- 
tions will be found in the more normal pursuits, as he is 
trained to follow them effectively. 

The self-confidence toward nature that comes with skill 
in making a box, building a fire, paddling a canoe or 
hitting a mark, must be supplemented by self-assurance 
in competition with fellow beings. This comes only by 
doing well things of which they can see the value. Jack 
will not be better assured among them for a perfect spell- 
ing lesson, or a prize for never being late at school. His 
pride in these accomplishments simply builds a teacher- 
fixation instead of a parental one. Jack's fellows will re- 
spect him for heady base running, for skillful diving, for 
an ingenious bit of handiwork. Only practice in instinc- 
tive competition builds self-assurance in it. 

The purpose of formal education is twofold: first, to 
bring together persons of similar ages for the develop- 
ment of a normal play-life; second, to develop specific 
aptitudes which will be of value in achieving economic 
independence. In the earlier years of schooling, their 
role is nearly equal ; the discipline of the three R's yields 
little, in its value for the child, to the discipline of the 
recess. Gradually, less essential studies come into the 
curriculum, and the discipline of " student activities " 
becomes more important. When college is reached, there 
can be little question that, in practice, the extra-curricular 
activities are more important for the future than those of 
the classroom. It is closer to the tests of actual life to 
be successful in track athletics, in student dramatics, as 



BALANCING FACTORS SW 

the business manager of such activities, and in student 
politics also, than to be successful in almost any per- 
formance of the classroom. 15 The college has become, 
very likely for the best, a school of social experience, 
with the curriculum one of the symbols of its group- 
community. Some of its disciplines train one for no 
other service than teaching them. The best balanced 
student or teacher does not regard the curriculum as the 
essential purpose of the college career. Thus a teacher's 
personal qualifications are often of greater importance 
than his professional accomplishments. 

Of educated people, psychopathologists give the most 
depreciative opinions of the present formal education. 
" First we must learn to stop doing harm ; then we may 
learn to do good," is the remark of one. That is, they 
think it does not contribute to the individual's adjust- 
ment to life a share commensurate with what is spent 
upon it. 16 To understand how this opinion arises, one 
should recall the fundamental conception of this adjust- 
ment as a balance of the instinctive life. It is then ob- 
served how consistent is formal education with the main- 
tenance of this balance. 

There is much in it that fares hard by such a criterion, 
the classics perhaps hardest of all. Their economic value 
is negligible, and their satisfactions are egoistic, such as 
do not meet the usual demands of adult personality. 
This applies to the humanities in general. Sometimes 
they are commended for providing intellectual " re- 
sources," when other satisfactions fail. But the very 

15 Cf. Joseph Lee, "Athletics and Education," Harvard Alumni 
Bulletin, 18 (1916), 572-574. Also Hollingworth, "Vocational Psy- 
chology," 166-167. 

16 Cf. also Abraham Flexner, "Parents and Schools," Atlantic 
Monthly (July, 1916), 25-33. 



316 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

cultivation of " resources " can help the deeper satisfac- 
tions to fail. When a man begins a long journey, he does 
not burden himself with crutches lest he fall lame. He 
takes proper footgear, that he may go quickly, with no 
need for crutches. 

The sciences fare proportionately better, having closer 
contacts with practical life, and drawing the attention 
more to phenomena outside oneself. Regarded solely 
from the resource standpoint, the invitations of nature 
study to outdoor existence, with the sociable elements 
that are often combined, make them healthier reactions 
than the humanities. 

" Too much teaching and too little training " is a criti- 
cism of deeper level. Teaching is easier than training, 
because teaching is simply to know, while training is to 
do. The play-life of " student activities " trains, where 
the classroom stops at teaching. " Book-learning," 
Sumner reminds us, 17 " is addressed to the intellect, not to 
the feelings, but the feelings are springs of action . . . 
the education that governs character . . . comes through 
personal influence and example. It is borne on the 
mores. It is taken in from the habits and atmosphere of 
the school, not from school textbooks." Outside of vo- 
cational training, the higher formal education provides 
balancing factors only in the more restricted sense de- 
scribed on page 274. The Talmud to the contrary, 18 
knowledge is no more a method of happiness than is 
wealth. Wealth is a means to happiness if it buys the 
right things ; education is a means to happiness if it learns 
the right things. The one method of happiness through 

17 " Folkways," 629. 

18 " The study of the law is of even greater merit than to rescue 
one from accidental death, than building the Temple, and greater 
than honoring father or mother." Moses, Path. A. Ret., 141. 






BALANCING FACTORS 317 

education, wealth or anything else, was inscribed on a 
certain abbey gate: Fais ce que vous vouldras. ld The 
inconsistency of education with happiness begins where 
it evades the instinctive life; where it teaches the con- 
scious to play the instincts false, and divides the per- 
sonality against itself. 

With the growth of the vocational training idea, it may 
be expected that formal education will come more and 
more into harmony with economic trends. Efficient 
vocational training needs wiser choice of vocation than 
the adolescent himself is in a position to make when the 
choice should be made. Such greater wisdom, fortu- 
nately, there is reason to look for elsewhere. An old 
story exists of a man who tested his son by leaving him 
alone with a dollar, an apple and a mouth organ. If he 
displayed chief interest in the dollar, he should be a 
banker; in the apple, a farmer; in the mouth organ, a 
musician. Returning to find the mouth organ sounding 
vigorously, the apple a core, and the dollar in the boy's 
pocket, he decided on a political career for his son. This 
little myth is the popular expression of a principle that 
reaches a more scientific form in the concepts of affective 
transference and sublimation. The idea is to lead the 
energy into useful actions which are enough like the child- 
ish interest to make such a transference effective. The 
instances of the water can and the bridge builder may be 
recalled; and, on a higher level, the superb allegory of 
sublimation in " Christopher Hibbault, Roadmaker." 
Thus the genius in vocational guidance determines the 
useful paths into which most of the childish energy will 
most readily be transferred. 

19 Compare Beechnut's instructions to Stuyvesant on the subject 
of travel. 



318 MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 

Formai education as we know it, does not concern 
itself with erotic trends. Often there is no attempt at 
their direction by those having most natural interest in 
the adolescent's welfare. The reason for this is a 
vaguely defined tabu known as " sex-resistance," the 
strongest irrational force in modern life. Its source 
is not known. Keller ascribes it to religion. Bleuler 
follows it to more individual sources, but without 
his usual convincingness. 20 A general tendency for no- 
tions of sacredness and uncleanness to fuse in the human 
mind may be suggested in partial explanation. The re- 
sult is to prevent any formal discipline regarding erotic 
trends, or to pervert its effects. Jung makes the sug- 
gestion that the tabu is more in evidence now than for- 
merly, because the function of religion as a balancing 
factor in sexual suppression is breaking down. Lacking 
this balance, eroticism begins to reassert itself, and, con- 
flicting with the tabu, makes a large share of the " nerv- 
ousness " of modern civilized life. 21 

In fine, doubt must be thrown upon the value of edu- 
cation that operates simply to increase the content of the 
conscious. The moral philosopher of Dotheboys Hall 
was mistaken ; it is when a boy does a thing, that he goes 
and learns it. The reverse of the half-truth, that " what 
people don't know doesn't hurt them,' , is that what 
people do know often fails to help them. 22 The char- 

20 "Der Sexualwiderstand," Jahrb. f. psa. u. psp. Forsch., 5 (1913), 
442-452. 

21 The reader familiar with Jung's words [Jahrb. f. psa. u. psp. 
Forsch. 3 (1912), 186-187] may be interested to compare them with 
some sentences from H. G. Wells' " Time Machine " : " Ages ago, 
thousands of generations ago, man had thrust his brother man out of 
the ease and sunlight of life. And now that brother was coming back 
— changed. Already the Eloi had begun to learn one old lesson 
anew. They were becoming acquainted again with Fear." (Ch. IX.) 

22 " And the God that you took from a printed book be with you, 
Tomlinson ! " 



BALANCING FACTORS 319 

acteristics of practice partly illustrate this. The most 
perfect conscious imagery of the keyboard does not avail 
to operate the typewriter. How often does the operator 
tell us that if she " thinks where the keys are " she makes 
a mistake? The skillful typist or marksman does his 
work without " knowing " what he does, without having 
the actions represented in consciousness. The correct re- 
actions were represented in consciousness only during the 
unskillful period of learning. The role of consciousness 
in all active accomplishments diminishes as practice per- 
fects them. In bicycle riding, the right reactions are 
probably never dependent on consciousness. 

A practiced chess player may make the opening move 
of a game automatically. As the game develops, he will 
not guard his queen from threatened attack unless he is 
aware of a threat to his queen. When a normal man 
thus adapts himself rightly to a new situation, the reaction 
is regularly represented in consciousness. But the aware- 
ness that the queen is threatened operates simply to bring 
ideas into function for protecting the piece ; and we saw 
from Chapter VI that the means he takes to protect his 
queen are by no means derived wholly from conscious 
sources. It was also pointed out that, in dissociated 
states, good adjustments to complicated situations are 
possible without the mediation of personal consciousness. 
Nor are similar instances quite lacking in normal life; 23 
this very last foothold of consciousness upon mental ad- 
justments grows insecure. Doing the right thing, even 
if it is a new thing, does not necessarily depend on con- 
sciousness of what is right to do, or why it is right. 

23 In the " relational test " of his adult scale, Yerkes makes special 
provision for subjects who can make the correct reaction in practice, 
but do not have it formulated in consciousness clearly enough to ex- 
plain how they do it. 



320 



MENTAL ADJUSTMENTS 



When, therefore, happiness is defined as " the con- 
scious phase of mental adaptation," this does not involve 
a consciousness of the right thing to do. It means that 
the consciousness which supervenes on doing the right 
thing is a happy one. It need not be a consciousness of 
what has been done. The well-being that results from 
good digestion is the conscious phase of its proper pro- 
cedure, but gives no knowledge of what has become of the 
food. 

The condition of mental adaptation is a right system 
of behavior-patterns. The functioning of these gives 
happiness whether they themselves are represented in 
consciousness or not. " The representation in conscious- 
ness of the generally best adapted reactions,' , is a prag- 
matic definition of truth. In the sense that conscious- 
ness is often a necessary forerunner of correct reactions, 
it is the truth that makes us free. But how often 
have the prototypes and successors of Galileo and Jenner 
shown that the truth makes no one free who is not free 
to perceive the truth ? The Florentine astronomer could 
not acknowledge the satellites of Jupiter, because he al- 
ready had contrary illusions that meant too much to his 
peace of mind. As a simple mistake, having no value 
to him per se, it would easily be corrected by the contrary 
evidence. An illusion is an error that balances some need 
in one's life, and is fought for desperately until that need 
is otherwise filled. The truth is only to those whose 
mental balance is already maintained in freedom from 
illusions. 



INDEX OF PROPER NAMES 



A, Case, 187 

A, Personality, 253, 263 
Abbot, E. S., 174 
Abraham, K., 284 
Adams, H. F., 257 
Adler, A., 118, 290 
Ahkoond of Swat, 122 
Athanasian Creed, 216 

B, Case, 191 

B, Personality, 253, 263 

B. C. A., Case (Morton 
Prince's), 171 

Bakairi, 37 

Von Bechterew, 131-132 

Beckett, 62 

Beechnut, 317 

Bible, 293 

Binet, 231, 236, 239-240 

Bleuler, 46-47, 57, 68, 318 

Bourne, A., Case, 179, 185 

Braune, 87 

Bridges, 233 

Brill, A. A., 8, 19, 308 

Bryant, 11 

Buffalo, 50, 51 

Busch, W., 281 

C, Case, 192ft* 
Campbell, C. M., 106, 280 
Cannon, 1 30-1 31 
Carmen, 123 

Cattell, 246, 271 
Charles W., Case, 181 
China, 6y 
Christ, 191, 220 

22 321 



" Christopher Hibbault, Road- 
maker," 11, 317 
Conrad, Joseph, 49 
Courtis, 271 
Crane, W. M., 260 
Crile, 227 
Curschmann, 163 

D, Case, 188 
Davenant, 246 
Dickens, 117, 214 
Doll, 234 

Don Juan, 152, 280 
Don Quixote, 33 
Dooley, L., 261 
Dotheboys Hall, 318 

Ellis, Havelock, 36 

Elmira, 65 

Englischer Garten, 119, 124, 

126, 127, 134 
Epicureans, 21 
Europe, at war, 297 

F, Case, 63ft*, 69, 186, 196ft", 

210, 218, 221 
Felida, Case, 181-185, 202 
Ferenczi, 126, 135, 262, 308 
Fernald, G. G., 251, 252, 255 
Field, Eugene, 124 
Fitchburg, no 
Flexner, A., 315 
Frazer, 45, 53, 57, 58, 84, 85, 

92-94, 215 
Freud, 41, 105, 108, 109, 150, 

307 



INDEX OF PROPER NAMES 






Galileo, 320 
Ganges, 14 
Geissler tubes, 29-43 
Goddard, H. H., 240 

H, Case, 199ft 

Haines, 254, 255 

Hanna, Case (Sidis'), 170 

Hardwick, 233 

Hart, B., 118, 153, 212, 214 

Haverhill, 65 

Hawaii, 64 

Hawthorne, 250 

Healy, 235-238, 240, 255, 271, 

309 
Henry, O., 40 
Hickman, 59 
Hill, A. S., 77 
Hirschfeld, 284 
Hoch, August, 109, 156, 185, 

211, 221, 284 
Hollingworth, 99, 241-242, 

256, 266, 271, 315 
Holmes, O. W., 24, 97, 307 

J, Case, 191, 195-196, 210, 214, 
Jabberwock, 60 
Jackson, A. V. W., 76 
James, Wm., 46, 108, 130, 155, 

179, 215, 225 
Janet, P., 127, 156, 158, 160, 

166, 170, 176 
Japan, 64, 66 
Jenner, 320 
Jewish race, 309 
Jones, Ernest, 130, 138 
Julius Caesar, 213, 214 
Jung, 42, 46, 55, 76, 221, 261, 

265, 271, 280, 290, 318 
Jupiter (god), 27 
Jupiter (planet), 89 



Kamadhuk, 278 
Keller, 48, 215, 227, 318 
Kent, G. H., 263 
Kipling, 96 
Kirby, 208 
Knox, 238 

Kraepelin, 59, 97, 98 
Kuhlmann, 232, 234 

L, Case, 187, 189, 191 

Lanigan, 121 

Lavalle, 101-102 

Lawrence, 65 

Le acock, 1 01-102, 123 

Lee, Joseph, 315 

Leonidas, 261 

Lincoln, A., 35 

" Little Willie " verses, 123 

Loewenfeld, 280 

Lowell, 65 

Lusitania-cap dream, 120, 148, 

217 
Lustige Blaetter, 109 

M, Case, 190 

Macallum, 45 

Maabeth, 91 

McDougall, Wm., 54, 149, 282 

Malagasy, 48, 57, 58, 60 

Marceline, Case, 181 

Marston, 248 

Mary, Virgin, 212 

Mayer, 182 

Meirowsky, 280 

Merton, 40 

Meyer, A., 205 

Mill, 191 

Milton, 246 

Missourian, 70 

Mitchell, Weir, 168 

Monte Cristo, 10 

Moore, 266 



INDEX OF PROPER NAMES 



Moses, Josiah, 58, 93, 191, 316 

N, Case, 190 
Nakashima, 131 
Niagara, 297 
Nietzsche, 29, 204 
Norsworthy, 266 

Oppenheim, 163 
Ossip-Lourie, 236 
" Owl," the, 109 

P, Case, 62, 69 

Parmelee, 164 

Partridge, 82 

Pawlow, 131 

Pearson, Karl, 16 

Pecksniff, 117 

Pennsylvania, 63 

Pericles, 191 

Pfister, 49, 104, 105, 117, 119, 
139, 143, 144, 147, 169, 
217, 220, 260, 288, 308, 
310 

Pintner, 235, 239 

Pittsburgh, 50-51 

Poe, 10, 108, 247-248 

Prince, Morton, 104, 127, 128, 
130, 135, 156, 161, 165, 
169, 181, 182, 185, 208, 
217, 219, 223 

Prince, W. F., 202 

Pullman, 37 

Qabala, 58 
Queensland, 65 

R, Case, 216 
Rabelais, 121 
Read, 48 

Reynolds, Case (Weir Mitch- 
ell's), 168 



Rittershaus, 260 
Rosanoff, 263 
Rumpelstilzkin, 90 

S, Case, 61, 69 

Sadger, 137, 141, 147, 283 

Salem, 65 

Sanskrit, 63, 76 

Schmitt, 236 

Scott, W. D., 125, 126, 133, 

137, 271 
Scripture, E. W., 89 
Shakespeare, 21, 246 
Sidis, 170 
Silberer, no 
Simplicissimus, 281 
Spenser, 248 
Strong, E. K., 256, 271 
Sumner, F. B., 248-249 
Sumner, W. G., 48, 72, 82, 90, 

140, 282, 293, 295, 306, 

316 
Swift, 72, 121 

Tahiti, 58 

Tait, 128, 129, 133-135 

Talmud, 316 

Tell, William, 294 

Terman, 162, 232, 234, 271 

Thoreau, 250, 255 

Thorndike, 271 

Tobin, 3 1 0-3 1 1 

Tucker, 68, 71 

Unitarian, 60 
Uranus, 168 
Utopia, 272 

Vischer, 59 

Walton, G. L., 163 
Walton, Izaak, 271 



324 INDEX OF PROPER NAMES 

Washington, 248 X, Miss, 126, 127, 135, 142 

Wells, H. G., 60, 318 

Will-i-am, 63, 68 Yerkes, 233-235, 239, 271, 319 

Wittemann, Case, 181 

Woolley, 271 Zulu, 58 

Wiirzburg, 60 



% 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS 



Abstraction, 169 
Action, test of, 255, 258 
Adaptability, 268 
Adaptation, 3 

faulty, 3 iff 

laboratory, 4 

mental, 229, 303 

sexual, 17ft 
Advertisements, testing of, 

257 
Advertising, 70, 125 
relative position method in, 

255-258 
Affect, 114 

free-floating, 265 
Affection, parental, 306 
Affective displacement, 115 
in dreams, 120 
in wit, 121-124 
Affective symbolism, in 
dreams, I48ff, 289 
by similarity, 144 
by temporal contiguity, 143 
Affective transference, rela- 
tion of, to conditioned re- 
flex, 133-134 
through the unconscious, 226 
Alcohol, 42 

Alcoholic hallucinosis, 211 
Alcoholism, speech symbols 

of, 82, 95, 289 
Allegory, 85. 
Amnesia, episodic, 167 

systematic, 167 
Amoeba, 1, 7 
Amusement, social, 295 

325 



Anesthesia, systematic, 164 

Anger, 33 

Angst-dream, 120, 148 

Ants, 35, 294 

Aphasia, 205 

Art, 272 

Association, controlled, 259 

experiments, 258 

free, 259ff 

test, 244-245 

time, 259 
Associative thinking, 46-47 
Astronomer, Florentine, 251 
Attention, 164 
Attitude toward others, 269 
Authors, American, 247 
Autistic thinking, 46, 55, 71, 

215 u 
Autoerotism, 117, 279, 298 
Autohedonic trends, 310-31 1 
Automatic, the, 201-202 
Automatic writing, 129, 167, 

I7iff 
Awareness, 135-137, 162, 166- 

167, 186, 224 

Balance, mental, 274 
in instinctive life as re- 
lated to association test, 
262 

Balance wheel, 273 

Balancing factors, 270, 273ff 

Bees, 66, 294 

Behavior-patterns, 30, 34, 320 

Bell- towers, case fearing, 129- 
130, 143, 148, 167, 219 



326 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS 



Betrothal delirium, 212 
Bicycling, 14 
relation of, to consciousness, 

319 
Brown, case disliking, 128, 

143, 219 
Burglars in the garden, 145 



Camphor language, 84 
Caresses, 307 
Carrots, 146 
Cases, A, 187 
B, 191 

B, C. A., 171 
Bourne, 179, 185 

C, 192ft" 
Charles W., 181 

D, 188 

F, 63*1", 69, 186, 196ft, 210 

218, 221 
Felida, 181-185, 202 
H, 199ft 
Hanna, 170 

J, 191, 195-196, 210, 214 
L, 187, 189, 191 
M, 190 

Marceline, 181 
N, 190 
P, 62, 69 
R, 216 

Reynolds, 168 
S, 61, 69 
Wittemann, 181 
Cause and effect, conceptions 

of> 52-55 
Chess, 6 
relation of, to conscious- 
ness, 226, 319 
Chi fed, 60 

Children, only, 308-310 
role of, in marriage, 282-285 



Civilization, as a transference 

process, 290 
Classics, 315 
Cloak, 102 
Companionship, marital, 281, 

283 
Compensation, affective, 116, 

312 
Complex, 63, 118 

indicators, 260, 261 
Conduct, as related to ideas, 
250 
moral, 251-253 
Conflict, 3, 34 
in dissociation, 207ff 
in ideas, 2i3ff 
internal, 36ff 
Conscious, the, 251, 254, 255, 

288, 318, 319 
Consciousness, 49ft* 
as distinguished from 

awareness, 169 
personal, 127, 156 
Consistency of trends, 275, 

28 5 ff 

Constipation, 146 
Construction tests, 236 
Contractures, 159 
Conversion, hysterical, 144 
Coupon, return, 258 
Crabs, 66-67 
Critical points, 11, 48 
Cube test (Knox), 239 
Curtain, 102 

Dancing, 19 

Daydream, 9, 11 

Death, speech-symbols of, 79 

Death-wish, 299 

Decapitation, of trends, 296- 

297 
Deference, habits of, 309 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS 



327 



Deliria, wish-fulfilling, 9 
Dementia praecox, 55, 61, 116, 
184, 197 
content of trends in, 209, 211 
its dissociation compared 
with somnambulism, 199 
Dictates, 187 
Directive thinking, 47 
Displacement, affective, 115, 

151 
Dissociation, 153 

hysterical, 156ft 

of ideas and memories, i66ff 

of motor functions, 1 57-161 

normal, 155 

organic, 205-206 

of perceptions, i6iff 

by practice, 154 

simultaneous, 173 

six types of, 157 

of speech, 160 

successive, 174 

as on switchboard, 161 
Divine Mind, 190-191 
Dodos, 31 

Dog, 34, 35, 37, 292 
Dollar, speech-symbols of, 78 
Dream, 58 

language in, 59-60 

showing affective symbolism 
of, 148ft" 

symbolism in, 96ff 
Dynamo, 28 

Economic trends, 286-294 
Economy, political, 151 
Education, 26, 305ft* 

consistency of, with mental 
balance, 315 
Egocentric associations, 261 ff 
Electricity, 28, 273ft" 

as a sexual symbol, 221-222 



Elephant, 88 
Emotion, 25 

continuity of, 1 51-152 

James-Lange theory of, 130 
Energy, output of, 267 

vital, 28, 43-44 
Environment, 24 

infantile, 307 
Eugenics, 283 
Evolution, 2 

Externalization, in Case C, 
192-195 

rationalizations of, 204 

See also Projection 

Fable, 85 

Father, return to, 221 
Fatigue, cause of dream-sym- 
bolism, no 
Fetishism, 144 
Finger-peeling, 146 
Firearms, 313 
Fits of sleep, 170 
Fixations, infantile, 138, 141 

regressive, 307-309 
Flywheel, 273 
Fox and grapes, 8, 22 
Free-floating affects, 135 
Free-will, 215 
Fugue, 176ft" 
Fusion, affective, 126 

General paralysis, 118 
Generalizing, in speech-sym- 
bols, 8iff 
Geology, 193, 296-297 
Graves' Disease, 188 
Grilling, of mind, 187 

Hallucinations, 184 
relation of, to delusions, 212 
sex-difference in, 210-211 



328 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS 



Happiness, 278, 302, 316, 320 
Hedonism, sexual, 283 
Hemiplegia, functional, 159 
Herd instinct, 295 
Heredity, 24, 307 
House-cleaning, affective sym- 
bolism of, 146 
Hydra, 87 
Hyena, 88 
Hypermnesia, 167 
Hypnosis, 127, 129 

Ideas of reference, 190 
Identification, in symbolism, 

68, 86ff, 142 
Imagination, 9ff, 41-42 
Inbreeding, 284 
Individual differences, 228ff 
Influence, ideas of, 12 
Insects, phobia of, 147 
Instinct, 30 
Integration, 154 

relation of, to delusions, 213 
Intellectual processes, grading 

of, 267 
Intelligence, 34 

measures of, 230-232 
Intelligence quotient, 234-235 
Interest, tending to symbolism, 

8off 
Interjections, 142 
Intro jection, 262 
Introversion, 41-42, 310 
Intrusive thoughts, 186 
Intuition, 70, 272 

Kidneys, 57 
Kindergarten, 311 

Language, as factor in tests, 
236 
origin of, 72ft" 
Lion, 87 



Loading of affects, I26ff, 

265-266 
Loose words, 189 
Love, 38, 143 
Love-life, 28off 

Magic, 53 
contagious, 94 
imitative, 91 
sympathetic, 54, 91 

Magnetism, 198 

Main personality, 223 

Manic-depressive psychosis, 
183-185 

Manual training school, 252 

Marriage, 2off, 265-266, 274, 
281-284 

Masturbation, 143, 146-147, 
280 

Memory, relation of, to affec- 
tive transference, 127, 

135-136 
Mental balance, 24, 242 
Mind-talk, 187 
Money, 23 

as balancing factor, 275 
Mood, general cast of, 269 

as related to content of mem- 
ory, 183 
Moral conduct, 251, 253 
Moral perception, 254 
Moral sense, 251-253 
Moral sphere, of personality, 

268 
Mores, 280, 295, 302 
Multiple choice method, 239 
Multiple personality, 176, I78ff 
Music, in parody, 122 
Myth, 317 

Name, in sympathetic magic, 
90 









INDEX OF SUBJECTS 



329 



Nascent dissociative symbol- 
ism, 220 

Natural selection of ideas, 52, 
90 

Nightmare, 105 

Nurses, 253 

Offenses, estimates of gravity 

of, 251-255 
One-girl man, 152 
Opinions, personal, 249 
Opposites test, 259 

Paralysis, systematic, 160-161 
Paramecium, 34 
Paraplegia, functional, 159 
Patriotism, 295-296, 299 
Performance, measures of, 230 

tests of, 236 
Personal equation, 228 
Personality, and association 
experiment, 261 ff 

dissociated, 184, 250 

main, 156 

multiple, 176, I78ff 

system for measurement of, 
266-270 
Persuasiveness, in advertise- 
ments, 256 
Phonograph, 49 
Pictorial completion test, 236 
Pocket money, 312 
Poets, English, 246 
Point-scale, 233 
Pregnancy, nervous, 212 
Progression, 306-307, 314 
Projection, of ideas, 188, 197 

See also Externalization 
Pronouns, 75 

Prostitution, 280-281, 291 
Psychoanalysis, 104, 136, 288 



Psychologists, leading, 246- 

247 
Psychology, animal, 3 

dynamic, 7, 87, 245 

experimental, 2276°, 

vocational, 240 
Pun, 56 

Rain, 50, 101 

Rationalization, I2ff, 22, 38, 

54, 85, 287, 293-294 
Reactions, to attitudes, 269 

choice, 3, 242-244 

defense, 139 

to delusions, 214 

emotional, 130, 

false, 3 

mental, 6, 50, 250 

psychomotor, 230 

remoteness of, 33 

time of, 246 

time of emotional responses 
to, 131 
Realistic thinking, 46ff, 215 
Reality, position toward, 270 
Recreations, 268, 301 
Reflex, 30 

conditioned or associative, 
132 

psychogalvanic, 260 
Reformatory, 252 
Regression, 150, 283, 290, 293, 

299, 306, 311 
Regressive fixations, 307-309 
Relational test, 319 
Relative position, 230, 245ff 
Religion, isff, 53, 70, 274, 289, 

293 
Repression of unpleasant 

memories, 136 
Resistance, intrapsychic, 36, 

105 



330 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS 



Resistance, sexual, 318 

in unhappy marriage, 288 
Revelation, 62 
" Root, hog, or die," 313 

Sales letters, 257 

Scales, intelligence, 231-236, 
271 

Schizophrenia, 57, 197, 202 

School, 311 

Science, 54 

Seduction, 253 

Self-assertion, 268 

Self-assurance, 312 

Selfish and unselfish trends, 
279, 290, 292, 298, 301 

Service, social, 295, 300 
military, 296 

Sexual selection, 284 

Sexuality, ijft, 35 
dissociation of trends, 207 
internal conflicts of, 37-39 
in speech symbols, 83-84 
sphere of personality, 270, 

274, 279-286, 302 
symbolized in electrical 
processes, 221-222 

Siphoning, affective, 130, 

I33#, 137 

Siren, 88 
Sissies, 313 
Short circuit, 40, 296 
Social service, 300 
Social trends, 294-302 
Somnambulism, dominating, 
181 

monoideic, 175 

recalls ability to write, 
180 
Spes phthisica, 118 
Spider, 2, 32, 39 
Stability, mental, 224 



Standards, affective, 121 
Stimulus-word, 259 
Student activities, 314-316 
Sublimation, i5off, 266, 279, 

304, 317 

Suicide, 39, 253, 299 

Symbolism, 54, 71 
affective, I42ff 
conditions favoring, 78ff 
criterion of, 95 
dissociative, 102, 2i8ff 
in dreams, 96ft" 
in dream-ideas, 99-113 
in dream-speech, 97-99 
in figures of speech, 76ff 
rational, 142 
by sound association, 75 
in speech, jtfi 

Sympathy, 25 

Tabu, 48, 57, 82-84, I38> 140, 

3i8 
Telephone, 54, 56, 57 
Temperament, 240, 242 
Tennis, 102 
Thermostat, 106 
Thumbsucking, 310 
Tiger, 40, 141, 294 
Transference, affective, 19, 21, 
I26ff, 317 

from excretory to erotic 
trends, 139 

in the unconscious, 226 
Transformer, 305 
Trend, economic, 37 

economic, sexual, social 

(q-v.), 30, 34 

fundamental, 29 
Trends, outside personal con- 
sciousness, 211 

subject to functional or or- 
ganic dissociation, 206 



INDEX OF SUBJECTS 



331 



Tropism, 30, 33 
Truth, making free, 320 
Tubes, Geissler, 29, 43 
Twenty-three, 95 
Typewriting, 241, 319 

Uebertragung, 126, 130 

Unconscious, the, 105 
metaphors of, 168-169 
release of, 172, 207-208, 223, 
224-226, 251, 258 

Urine, 137, 141 

Violin, 147 
Viper, 88 
Virgin Birth, 215 



Virgin, wise, 285 
Vocational selection, 24off, 270 
Vocational training, 317 
Voices, accepted or repudiated, 
191 

Wealth, acquisition of, 290- 

293 

expenditure of, 289-290 
Whipping, 143 
Wireless, 53 
Wish-fulfillment, 9, 68 
Wolf, 2 
Work, habits of, 268 

transferred joy in, 292 

Year-scale, 232 



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